So, this evening there was an "Ebola scare" in Mobile, i.e. just across the bay, i.e. way too close for comfort.
It turned out NOT to be Ebola (thank goodness). Just an abundance of caution and a little confusion due to a language barrier, apparently. Better safe than sorry, as they say-- though you have to wonder, with all these false alarms across the country (and around the world), at what point people will begin to let their guard down. With something this deadly, I hope that won't be an issue, but human nature being what it is...
Even though it seemed likely from the beginning that this case would be ruled out, it was still a bit of a shock to think that It could be so close to home-- and yet, why not? Of course it could show up practically anywhere, in theory. Not at all likely, no, but still well within the realm of possibility.
...Gee, I sure am glad we've decided not to restrict travel from West Africa! Makes so much sense...
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Monday, July 30, 2012
This Screwed Up World We Live In
A woman wants an abortion?
Well, it's her body, her right to choose. Don't badger her! Don't try to counsel her against it! How dare you interfere in something so personal?!
A woman wants to feed her newborn on formula?
She must be given a "talking-to" and shamed for her awful, toxic choice. After all, though we must grudgingly accept that the final decision of how to feed their babies is up to mothers, "it's our job to educate them on the best option."
Well, it's her body, her right to choose. Don't badger her! Don't try to counsel her against it! How dare you interfere in something so personal?!
A woman wants to feed her newborn on formula?
She must be given a "talking-to" and shamed for her awful, toxic choice. After all, though we must grudgingly accept that the final decision of how to feed their babies is up to mothers, "it's our job to educate them on the best option."
Monday, March 14, 2011
Mish-Mash of Subjects
The video and photos from Japan (following a magnitude 9.0 earthquake, a devastating tsunami, and problems at a nuclear power plant [to remind Future Me of what's been happening in the present]) continue to astound and horrify. There's nothing to say that hasn't been said already, really-- especially regarding the loss the life. It's just incredible, the level of damage created by the tsunami, in particular.
I remember how tired I was in those first days after Ivan (which doesn't even begin to compare, but is the most violent natural event I can remember experiencing)-- how dispiriting it was-- how it sometimes felt like we'd never get everything back to normal again-- so I can't even imagine how physically and emotionally exhausted so many of the Japanese must now be feeling. I hope they know (as I think they must) that the rest of the world is praying for their recovery from this disaster.
I remember how tired I was in those first days after Ivan (which doesn't even begin to compare, but is the most violent natural event I can remember experiencing)-- how dispiriting it was-- how it sometimes felt like we'd never get everything back to normal again-- so I can't even imagine how physically and emotionally exhausted so many of the Japanese must now be feeling. I hope they know (as I think they must) that the rest of the world is praying for their recovery from this disaster.
- - - - - - -
On a much lighter subject (most subjects would be, compared to the previous), Donald and I spent part of the weekend cleaning out our shed. It really needed it. There's still work to be done (isn't there always?), but it's already much improved.
There's no telling how many dead or dying wasps Donald removed. Hundreds, at least. Maybe thousands. It makes me feel all shuddery just thinking about the piles of horrible little crispy wasps. (I loathe wasps. I expect most people dislike them, but I'm somewhat terrified of them. They and mosquitoes are a large part of the reasons I don't look forward to summertime.) Oh! We also found a small snake in the shed. We think it was a corn snake. (There seem to be quite a few of those around here. Those and hog-nosed snakes.) It's probably still in there, but that's ok. I'd rather have the little corn snake than something worse.
In the process of cleaning out, we discovered quite a few things we need to dispose of. I guess we'll get rid of it gradually by putting out a little each week with the garbage.
We also "found" (in quotation marks because, really, we already knew they were in there) all my hypertufa-making supplies. I'm going to hunt out my 'tufa notebook, remind myself how to do it, and get busy making fake stone containers. :o)
- - - - - - -
I've begun doing a little yard work. (Finally.) I'm trying to do just a little at a time and not push myself too hard. (Ha ha, very funny. Yes, I can hear you laughing. "You'll try not to push yourself too hard!" you snort in delighted hilarity. You know me too well.)
Seriously, though, I don't want a repeat of last spring's horrible back pain-- and it's so easy to do something bad without realizing it is bad until it's too late. My first day working outside (Saturday), I must have spent too much time using the loppers, because I ended up with an irritatingly achy shoulder/upper arm and neck that night and the next morning. So. Only a little at a time! Fortunately, even a little does show. There's just so much to do!
- - - - - - -
Just after healing from biting one side of my tongue, I think I just managed to bite the other side, now (but not with quite so much force, this time). Incidentally, I can't even remember the last time I bit my tongue (just so you don't think I make a habit of it). I guess I was overdue for a couple of tongue bites... Might as well get two or three of them over and done in a handy one-week period. ;o)
- - - - - - -
Apparently, AFLAC fired Gilbert Gottfried over some "insensitive" (not to mention unamusing) tweets he made about the tsunami. They'll be looking for someone to replace him as "voice talent" for their commercials, according to the story I read. That shouldn't be too difficult, considering that the duck never says anything but "AFLAC"... Just pull someone in off the street, right?
Friday, March 4, 2011
I Just Don't GET IT
Five Random Things I've Never Really "Gotten":
#1: "NKOTB" and "boy bands" in general
That's just not my style of music. Besides, I thought the NKOTB guys were gross (and wasn't shy about saying so, I'm afraid). New Kids on the Block were big when I was in about the 5th and 6th grades. I was one of (I think) only two girls in our class who didn't swoon over them. (You'd be surprised how big a deal that sort of thing can be for girls at that age. It certainly played a role in who I spent time with and how I related to my female classmates for years to come.) I still haven't completely forgiven NKOTB for existing. ;o)
#2: Waxing
Nope, just not worth it-- not by a long shot. Give me a good old-fashioned razor instead. (Maybe this is TMI. Oh well.) Many women say something silly like, "This is the price we pay for beauty. Bring it on!" (followed by the sound of hair being ripped from follicles-- and a stifled scream)... to which I reply, "I'm beautiful enough as I am, thanks all the same." (Well, as beautiful as I'm going to get, waxing or no waxing.)
#3: Sunbathing / Tanning Beds
I probably have my mother to thank for this. (And no, I'm not being sarcastic. Seriously, thanks, Mom.) She taught us young that cigarettes and sunbathing (among other things) were Bad For You. We used sunscreen at the beach-- so on and so forth. Result: I've never been tempted in the least to sunbathe or use a tanning bed.
(Some might argue that this isn't much of a feat, since my natural skin tone isn't that light. Maybe... But I never understood why people thought being pale was a bad thing. In fact, I've sometimes felt that those who hold out milky arms and legs, bemoaning their lack of a tan, might actually be fishing for compliments on their perfectly creamy complexions. *shrug*)
#4: SPAM & Pop-Ups
No, I don't love the edible SPAM, either, but what I really meant was computer SPAM-- and those incredibly annoying pop-up ads that some sites still persist in having. I know in theory that the reason they exist is that someone, somewhere is clicking and buying the junk in the ads, but I just don't get WHY anyone would do so. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE??
#5: Disease/Death-Centric Novels
You know the ones I mean? Novels in which the main character or his/her love interest (or his/her family member or close friend) has a very limited life expectancy-- and that's the whole point of the book, apparently. For examples, look at practically anything Lurlene McDaniel has ever written. With titles like Mother, Please Don't Die... Don't Die, My Love... If I Should Die Before I Wake... She Died Too Young... Sixteen and Dying... and Why Did She Have to Die, how can you go wrong?
I recognize that there may be a need for this type of book... When an adolescent has to deal with serious disease or death in her own life, she may benefit from reading about similar situations and how characters deal with them. One could even argue that reading such books gives those as yet untouched by tragedy a better sense of what her friends may go through. ...But the thing is, most of the teen/pre-teen girls I knew who read those types of titles didn't seem to be doing it for therapeutic reasons or to gain greater empathy. They just liked the melodrama. I, on the other hand, did not. Nor do I now. This is one of the reasons I don't watch medical dramas-- and if I start reading a book, only to discover that it's going to focus on something so utterly depressing, my first instinct is to get rid of the horrible thing ASAP.
(One exception: The Blue Castle, by L.M. Montgomery. But that one doesn't really count, for reasons I can't go into without spoiling the whole book.)
#1: "NKOTB" and "boy bands" in general
That's just not my style of music. Besides, I thought the NKOTB guys were gross (and wasn't shy about saying so, I'm afraid). New Kids on the Block were big when I was in about the 5th and 6th grades. I was one of (I think) only two girls in our class who didn't swoon over them. (You'd be surprised how big a deal that sort of thing can be for girls at that age. It certainly played a role in who I spent time with and how I related to my female classmates for years to come.) I still haven't completely forgiven NKOTB for existing. ;o)
#2: Waxing
Nope, just not worth it-- not by a long shot. Give me a good old-fashioned razor instead. (Maybe this is TMI. Oh well.) Many women say something silly like, "This is the price we pay for beauty. Bring it on!" (followed by the sound of hair being ripped from follicles-- and a stifled scream)... to which I reply, "I'm beautiful enough as I am, thanks all the same." (Well, as beautiful as I'm going to get, waxing or no waxing.)
#3: Sunbathing / Tanning Beds
I probably have my mother to thank for this. (And no, I'm not being sarcastic. Seriously, thanks, Mom.) She taught us young that cigarettes and sunbathing (among other things) were Bad For You. We used sunscreen at the beach-- so on and so forth. Result: I've never been tempted in the least to sunbathe or use a tanning bed.
(Some might argue that this isn't much of a feat, since my natural skin tone isn't that light. Maybe... But I never understood why people thought being pale was a bad thing. In fact, I've sometimes felt that those who hold out milky arms and legs, bemoaning their lack of a tan, might actually be fishing for compliments on their perfectly creamy complexions. *shrug*)
#4: SPAM & Pop-Ups
No, I don't love the edible SPAM, either, but what I really meant was computer SPAM-- and those incredibly annoying pop-up ads that some sites still persist in having. I know in theory that the reason they exist is that someone, somewhere is clicking and buying the junk in the ads, but I just don't get WHY anyone would do so. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE??
#5: Disease/Death-Centric Novels
You know the ones I mean? Novels in which the main character or his/her love interest (or his/her family member or close friend) has a very limited life expectancy-- and that's the whole point of the book, apparently. For examples, look at practically anything Lurlene McDaniel has ever written. With titles like Mother, Please Don't Die... Don't Die, My Love... If I Should Die Before I Wake... She Died Too Young... Sixteen and Dying... and Why Did She Have to Die, how can you go wrong?
I recognize that there may be a need for this type of book... When an adolescent has to deal with serious disease or death in her own life, she may benefit from reading about similar situations and how characters deal with them. One could even argue that reading such books gives those as yet untouched by tragedy a better sense of what her friends may go through. ...But the thing is, most of the teen/pre-teen girls I knew who read those types of titles didn't seem to be doing it for therapeutic reasons or to gain greater empathy. They just liked the melodrama. I, on the other hand, did not. Nor do I now. This is one of the reasons I don't watch medical dramas-- and if I start reading a book, only to discover that it's going to focus on something so utterly depressing, my first instinct is to get rid of the horrible thing ASAP.
(One exception: The Blue Castle, by L.M. Montgomery. But that one doesn't really count, for reasons I can't go into without spoiling the whole book.)
Friday, August 20, 2010
Results!
Long, drawn-out entry about exercise / dieting to follow.
Not likely to interest anyone besides myself. (Sorry!)
For a while now (a couple months? maybe longer...), I've been trying to exercise more regularly. I'm not doing intense workouts, but I do try to do a little fast-paced walking and/or Wii boxing (Gold's Gym Cardio Workout) almost every day. (I do occasionally skip a day if I'm feeling under the weather or need a break.)
Along with the light exercise, I've also said goodbye to soft drinks. I probably should've taken note of the latest no-more-Coke starting date, but I didn't. It's been three or four months, probably.
Anyway, with the exercise and the water-instead-of-Dr. Pepper and a serious effort at not totally pigging out on unhealthy food (without actually forbiding myself a few treats now and then), I've been hoping to see some results.
The Wii balance board has been telling me that I'm slowly losing weight, but you (probably) know how it is. You lose a couple pounds, but in a day or two you're back to where you were. Then you lose a couple more and maybe only creep back up one pound. It's definitely not a speedy, steady, all-one-direction process.
So, with the numbers not being particularly inspiring, I look for other sources to confirm that, yes, my not-exactly-hard work is paying off. My arms feel slightly more toned, thanks to the boxing game. That's nice, but still not quite what I'd hoped for. I try to pay closer attention to how my clothes fit. Maybe something that used to be a bit tight is fitting more comfortably. (Please? It'd be nice...) Nope, no obvious changes there. (That is disappointing. I guess I need to ramp up my efforts or cut back further on the less healthy food. Or just give it more time, maybe.)
Then. Today. This morning. While getting dressed to go grocery shopping, I put on my wedding ring. (I'm not one who wears jewelry-- even my wedding ring-- every day. In fact, I usually only put it on when I leave the house.) The ring has been a little tight for a while, now-- especially in the hotter time of the year, I think. Well, despite the heat of August, it was noticeably looser on my finger. (!!!)
What? Why aren't you all jumping up and down? Why do I not hear squealing? ;o)
This may not seem like much, but it was enough to make me happy!
It's amazing; that exercise / watching your diet stuff really works, huh? (Even if it takes longer than we'd like.)
...Now I just hope it wasn't a fluke. Maybe the next time I go to put on the ring, it'll be back to its former slightly-tight status. If you hear a distant, furious scream ending in a sigh of defeat, you'll know my fingers have re-pudgified and that I will soon be defiantly stuffing my face with pepperoni pizza (in between gulps of Dr. Pepper). (g)
Seriously, though, I'm going to stick to my no-Coke diet for the foreseeable future-- and try to keep up with the exercise and (somewhat) healthier eating. Getting into the habit is the hard part. By comparison, staying there with it isn't so difficult.
Not likely to interest anyone besides myself. (Sorry!)
For a while now (a couple months? maybe longer...), I've been trying to exercise more regularly. I'm not doing intense workouts, but I do try to do a little fast-paced walking and/or Wii boxing (Gold's Gym Cardio Workout) almost every day. (I do occasionally skip a day if I'm feeling under the weather or need a break.)
Along with the light exercise, I've also said goodbye to soft drinks. I probably should've taken note of the latest no-more-Coke starting date, but I didn't. It's been three or four months, probably.
Anyway, with the exercise and the water-instead-of-Dr. Pepper and a serious effort at not totally pigging out on unhealthy food (without actually forbiding myself a few treats now and then), I've been hoping to see some results.
The Wii balance board has been telling me that I'm slowly losing weight, but you (probably) know how it is. You lose a couple pounds, but in a day or two you're back to where you were. Then you lose a couple more and maybe only creep back up one pound. It's definitely not a speedy, steady, all-one-direction process.
So, with the numbers not being particularly inspiring, I look for other sources to confirm that, yes, my not-exactly-hard work is paying off. My arms feel slightly more toned, thanks to the boxing game. That's nice, but still not quite what I'd hoped for. I try to pay closer attention to how my clothes fit. Maybe something that used to be a bit tight is fitting more comfortably. (Please? It'd be nice...) Nope, no obvious changes there. (That is disappointing. I guess I need to ramp up my efforts or cut back further on the less healthy food. Or just give it more time, maybe.)
Then. Today. This morning. While getting dressed to go grocery shopping, I put on my wedding ring. (I'm not one who wears jewelry-- even my wedding ring-- every day. In fact, I usually only put it on when I leave the house.) The ring has been a little tight for a while, now-- especially in the hotter time of the year, I think. Well, despite the heat of August, it was noticeably looser on my finger. (!!!)
What? Why aren't you all jumping up and down? Why do I not hear squealing? ;o)
This may not seem like much, but it was enough to make me happy!
It's amazing; that exercise / watching your diet stuff really works, huh? (Even if it takes longer than we'd like.)
...Now I just hope it wasn't a fluke. Maybe the next time I go to put on the ring, it'll be back to its former slightly-tight status. If you hear a distant, furious scream ending in a sigh of defeat, you'll know my fingers have re-pudgified and that I will soon be defiantly stuffing my face with pepperoni pizza (in between gulps of Dr. Pepper). (g)
Seriously, though, I'm going to stick to my no-Coke diet for the foreseeable future-- and try to keep up with the exercise and (somewhat) healthier eating. Getting into the habit is the hard part. By comparison, staying there with it isn't so difficult.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
A Matter of Great Importance
I have to renew my driver's license this month.
This has brought up something of a mini-dilemma.
No, it's nothing to do with how to make sure the photo is decent this time. I've long since given up on that. I will look chubby, round-faced, remarkably unremarkable, and probably oily, no matter how carefully groomed and posed I am. But I guess that's ok. I hardly ever have occasion to show the horrid thing, and practically everyone's driver's license photo is awful, right?
No, the thing that's got me worried (or okay, not "worried" so much as "perplexed"... and not "perplexed" so much as "idly curious") is a weightier issue altogether. (Ha ha. "Weightier". The wit continues to sparkle.) You see, it's my weight.
As far as the great State of Alabama knows, my weight hasn't changed since I got my first driver's license at the age of eighteen. (I was a late bloomer, automotively speaking.) However, as far as I (and my clothes... and those who've been around me the last 10+ years) know, my weight actually has changed. That's right. I know it's hard to believe, but I don't really weigh a mere 115 pounds. (I hope I didn't shock any of you too much just then...) Honestly, I may not have weighed quite that little even at eighteen. Back then, I foolishly expected that they would weigh you and measure your height at the DMV, like they do at the doctor's office, so when the time came to fill out the paperwork, I had to guess.
I've had my license renewed a couple of times since then, but unless I'm remembering incorrectly, no-one ever comes right out and asks, "Is this your real weight?" They may ask if the address-type information is still correct, but they've never looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Um, ma'am, it says here you weigh 115 pounds... and since that's obviously not the case..." In brief, no-one has called me out for allowing the state to keep believing I'm skinny. It is perhaps unlikely that anyone ever will. (I wonder, though. At what point will they come out and gently suggest that maybe you weight closer to 400 pounds than 120?)
However. I don't see myself ever being 115 again. It probably wouldn't even be a healthy weight for me, at this point. I'd like to work my way down 20 pounds or so-- see where in that range is a good, healthy, maintainable weight for me, but that's going to take time. More than the week or two I have left to renew my license, certainly. (Darn it. Too bad it's not that quick and easy!)
So my dilemma is this-- Do I come right out and say something about it, this time? "Oh, by the way, my weight is wrong on the old card. I'm actually XYZ pounds, now." (And hope they won't notice what a big jump in numbers that is... (g)) Or do I keep quiet and let Alabama go on thinking I'm supermodel thin? ;o) I'm sure the workers (most of whom are women) can tell when a woman weighs more than her information says-- and most of them probably fudge the truth a little, themselves. (Doesn't everyone?)
Also, if I do decide to correct the number, how far should I go? I mean, I am trying to lose a little weight. If I tell them the exact number I am now, and then I succeed in losing 10 or 15 pounds (or more) in the next four years, I'll have to get them to change it again. (And I wouldn't want to create too much extra work for them, you know. That's the only reason I'd ever want to not tell them precisely how much I weigh at this very moment, of course.)
One way or the other, I'll have to decide soon. The old (hideous photo) license expires August 1st.
P.S. Oops. Accidentally hit "publish" before I was done. Sorry if you RSS-feed readers got this one twice!
This has brought up something of a mini-dilemma.
No, it's nothing to do with how to make sure the photo is decent this time. I've long since given up on that. I will look chubby, round-faced, remarkably unremarkable, and probably oily, no matter how carefully groomed and posed I am. But I guess that's ok. I hardly ever have occasion to show the horrid thing, and practically everyone's driver's license photo is awful, right?
No, the thing that's got me worried (or okay, not "worried" so much as "perplexed"... and not "perplexed" so much as "idly curious") is a weightier issue altogether. (Ha ha. "Weightier". The wit continues to sparkle.) You see, it's my weight.
As far as the great State of Alabama knows, my weight hasn't changed since I got my first driver's license at the age of eighteen. (I was a late bloomer, automotively speaking.) However, as far as I (and my clothes... and those who've been around me the last 10+ years) know, my weight actually has changed. That's right. I know it's hard to believe, but I don't really weigh a mere 115 pounds. (I hope I didn't shock any of you too much just then...) Honestly, I may not have weighed quite that little even at eighteen. Back then, I foolishly expected that they would weigh you and measure your height at the DMV, like they do at the doctor's office, so when the time came to fill out the paperwork, I had to guess.
I've had my license renewed a couple of times since then, but unless I'm remembering incorrectly, no-one ever comes right out and asks, "Is this your real weight?" They may ask if the address-type information is still correct, but they've never looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Um, ma'am, it says here you weigh 115 pounds... and since that's obviously not the case..." In brief, no-one has called me out for allowing the state to keep believing I'm skinny. It is perhaps unlikely that anyone ever will. (I wonder, though. At what point will they come out and gently suggest that maybe you weight closer to 400 pounds than 120?)
However. I don't see myself ever being 115 again. It probably wouldn't even be a healthy weight for me, at this point. I'd like to work my way down 20 pounds or so-- see where in that range is a good, healthy, maintainable weight for me, but that's going to take time. More than the week or two I have left to renew my license, certainly. (Darn it. Too bad it's not that quick and easy!)
So my dilemma is this-- Do I come right out and say something about it, this time? "Oh, by the way, my weight is wrong on the old card. I'm actually XYZ pounds, now." (And hope they won't notice what a big jump in numbers that is... (g)) Or do I keep quiet and let Alabama go on thinking I'm supermodel thin? ;o) I'm sure the workers (most of whom are women) can tell when a woman weighs more than her information says-- and most of them probably fudge the truth a little, themselves. (Doesn't everyone?)
Also, if I do decide to correct the number, how far should I go? I mean, I am trying to lose a little weight. If I tell them the exact number I am now, and then I succeed in losing 10 or 15 pounds (or more) in the next four years, I'll have to get them to change it again. (And I wouldn't want to create too much extra work for them, you know. That's the only reason I'd ever want to not tell them precisely how much I weigh at this very moment, of course.)
One way or the other, I'll have to decide soon. The old (hideous photo) license expires August 1st.
P.S. Oops. Accidentally hit "publish" before I was done. Sorry if you RSS-feed readers got this one twice!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Chatting About Nothing in Particular
I woke early with a bad dream still echoing through my head, and I found I just couldn't get back to sleep. (Don't you hate it when that happens?) It's strange how latent worries and fears tend to rise to the surface when you lie awake in the middle of the night (or more often, early morning). Things that you can normally just push to the side are more presistent, and it seems impossible to clear your mind and let yourself drift off. It is without doubt the most depressing time of day or night, so thank goodness most of us usually sleep right through it!
The downside of getting up a couple hours earlier than normal is that you catch yourself making lots more typos than usual! Please excuse any that I may miss.
So, time for a little casual chit-chat, then.
I'm pretty sure the neighbor dogs moved in yesterday evening. (That's because I saw them and-- just barely-- heard them barking. So it's pretty good intel. (g)) You have to wonder what pets think when they are moved to a totally new location. How long does it take before they consider the new place home? Are they confused by the change, or do they simply accept it, because the rest of the "pack" is there?
We walked over to my parents' house Monday afternoon/early evening. (We were delivering one more T-post we'd found that they could use in their temporary fence for the dogs.) I think it will be the last time I willingly walk until the seasons change. That's partly because it's just too hot and/or humid this time of year to make walking pleasant. (Donald may be crazy enough to go running in the summer, but I choose to get my exercise indoors!) It's also because there are Things about in summer.
A few minutes after we arrived, Grandpa took his lawnmower (which happened to already be out) and started mowing the strip of land we'd just walked. When he came back, he told us he'd just mowed over (i.e. killed) a water moccasin-- maybe 30 feet from where we'd been walking in some knee-high grass and weeds.
Ugh. It's enough to make you shudder, think about what could have happened (pain, expense, infected wounds?--with quick access to a hospital, not likely death, thank goodness, but aren't those other things bad enough?), and resolve not to walk so much until later in the year!
I'm opposed to cottonmouths living in my general vicinity. (And I guess I need to try the snake gun again so I'll be ready if one chooses to disregard that sentiment. Sorry, snake-lovers, but I will be killing the venomous ones that venture onto our property, if I can manage it.)
My left hand still smells vaguely of vinegar this morning.
No, it's not a new beauty/hand-softening regimen. ;o) No, I haven't started perfuming myself with vinegar, either. (Good guess, though. (g))
What happened is this: Yesterday afternoon, I cleaned and chopped a handful of fresh jalapeño peppers. I did not wear gloves. I briefly considered that option, but then I thought, "Nah, jalapeños aren't that hot. It's not like these are habeneros." As I worked-- and afterward-- I was fine, which only confirmed to me that jalapeños are not that bad. I washed my hands when I was done, of course, but didn't really give it a whole lot of thought.
It wasn't until later, when Donald arrived home and we were talking, that I began to notice a slight burning on the fingertips-- under the nails-- of my left hand. (The right remained unscathed. I'm sure this is because I held the knife in my right hand and used mostly my left to handle the peppers.) The burning was very slight-- so much so that I absentmindedly used a fingertip to scratch an eyelid. Instantly I realized that that had been a mistake, and I went to rinse off my eye immediately.*
Burning my eye confirmed my suspicion that this had something to do with the peppers, so I googled it and ended up reading a thread of all sorts of humorous and horrifying stories of jalapeño-based misery. Some people didn't realize their hands were "contaminated" until after they'd gone to the bathroom, for instance. One man didn't feel it himself, but his wife certainly did (. . .later that night). Then there was the woman whose hands burned so badly-- just from jalapeños!-- that she went to an emergency clinic in search of relief.
Reading all that (and how it was so frequently a delayed reaction) made me a little afraid that this was only the beginning-- and by this time, the burning had increased somewhat-- so I tried a couple of the possible remedies I'd read about. First, I soaked my fingertips in vinegar**. Later, I took a piece of aloe vera plant and squished as much as I could of the gel under my nails. Both provided temporary relief, but at least some of the stinging came back. If it had been worse, I would've tried tomato sauce/paste next, but it just wasn't that bad, so I was able to ignore it.
Throughout the evening, I would periodically feel a slight flare-up of discomfort-- usually when I was using my left hand-- putting pressure on it by picking something up. Even this morning, as I type, I occasionally feel a very mild tingle in the tip of a finger. Just enough to remind me of yesterday and why I will never again risk worse burning by chopping peppers gloveless.
It seems that (as with most things) some people are more susceptible to small amounts of capsaicin than are others. (Thus the man who didn't feel it but whose wife did-- and the number of people who wrote that they never feel it on their hands, but if they touch an eye or their mouth, they burn just as much as the next person.) In any case, I think I'll take some precautions next time. Some people wrote that latex gloves don't work, but that rubber gloves do. I'll probably try rubber gloves next time, just to be on the safe side. . .
(Looking back into my dimmest memory, I think Mom may have warned me about the peppers when she passed them along to me. . . I guess I wasn't paying enough attention. Shame on me!)
*At that point, it was impossible not to remember the story of how poor little Tonya had been playing with some ornamental peppers (unbeknownst to the adults). I don't remember all the details, but I think that somehow her fingers started burning, so she put them in her mouth. That made her mouth start to burn, so she started crying, which led to-- as you've probably guessed-- her putting her hands to her eyes and burning them, too! Ouch!
**I read this morning that vinegar (like water) is ineffective at removing capsaicin. (So my fingers are all vinegary for no good reason? How rude!) On the other hand, they list vegetable oil and Vaseline as being possibly useful. Then again, this is Wikipedia I'm citing here, so, um, take it or leave it, pretty much.
I mentioned exercising indoors, before. My current favorite indoor exercises (because I have more time to waste this morning) are all Wii-based. (There's something both satisfying and amusing about using video games to be more physically active!)
Number one on the list is Gold Gym's Cardio Workout. If you enjoy the boxing elements in other games (Wii Fit, EA Sports Active), you might want to give this one a look. If on the other hand you hate the boxing elements, avoid this one like the plague, because that's pretty much all it is. (g) I liked the boxing, and I haven't been disappointed in this "game". Just as EA Sports Active's boxing takes Wii Fit's version to the next level, so too does Cardio Workout.
Here are some points of interest about the game:
Dance Dance Revolution: Disney Grooves. We chose this one because it came with two dance mats, so we could play simultaneously. I've seen some complain that the routines aren't sufficiently difficult. To them, I stick out my tongue, because they must be in much better physical condition than I am. It's difficult enough, trust me, and I'm just playing on the "Difficult" level-- not "Expert". It's certainly enough to give you a little exercise. I think I have to "dance" longer than I have to "box" to get the same kind of results-- at least it feels longer-- but it's nice for a little of a change.
Wii Fit (Free Step). I haven't used this one as much as the other two, but I think that's going to change. This is nice for a lower impact workout, and I like that I can be watching whatever I want on TV (or listening to my own music) while I do it, yet I still get credit in the game for exercising. (g) I know it's not much different than if I just went for a walk around the house (or, well, outside-- but that's just crazy-talk), but I'm more likely to do it if I'm getting points for it, so in a way there is a difference. Also, because it's "just walking", I think it will be easy to talk myself into doing it, even on days I don't really feel like exercising. (That's the plan, anyway.)
Well, time to go start the day for real! :o)
The downside of getting up a couple hours earlier than normal is that you catch yourself making lots more typos than usual! Please excuse any that I may miss.
So, time for a little casual chit-chat, then.
- - - - - - -
I'm pretty sure the neighbor dogs moved in yesterday evening. (That's because I saw them and-- just barely-- heard them barking. So it's pretty good intel. (g)) You have to wonder what pets think when they are moved to a totally new location. How long does it take before they consider the new place home? Are they confused by the change, or do they simply accept it, because the rest of the "pack" is there?
- - - - - - -
We walked over to my parents' house Monday afternoon/early evening. (We were delivering one more T-post we'd found that they could use in their temporary fence for the dogs.) I think it will be the last time I willingly walk until the seasons change. That's partly because it's just too hot and/or humid this time of year to make walking pleasant. (Donald may be crazy enough to go running in the summer, but I choose to get my exercise indoors!) It's also because there are Things about in summer.
A few minutes after we arrived, Grandpa took his lawnmower (which happened to already be out) and started mowing the strip of land we'd just walked. When he came back, he told us he'd just mowed over (i.e. killed) a water moccasin-- maybe 30 feet from where we'd been walking in some knee-high grass and weeds.
Ugh. It's enough to make you shudder, think about what could have happened (pain, expense, infected wounds?--with quick access to a hospital, not likely death, thank goodness, but aren't those other things bad enough?), and resolve not to walk so much until later in the year!
I'm opposed to cottonmouths living in my general vicinity. (And I guess I need to try the snake gun again so I'll be ready if one chooses to disregard that sentiment. Sorry, snake-lovers, but I will be killing the venomous ones that venture onto our property, if I can manage it.)
- - - - - - -
My left hand still smells vaguely of vinegar this morning.
No, it's not a new beauty/hand-softening regimen. ;o) No, I haven't started perfuming myself with vinegar, either. (Good guess, though. (g))
What happened is this: Yesterday afternoon, I cleaned and chopped a handful of fresh jalapeño peppers. I did not wear gloves. I briefly considered that option, but then I thought, "Nah, jalapeños aren't that hot. It's not like these are habeneros." As I worked-- and afterward-- I was fine, which only confirmed to me that jalapeños are not that bad. I washed my hands when I was done, of course, but didn't really give it a whole lot of thought.
It wasn't until later, when Donald arrived home and we were talking, that I began to notice a slight burning on the fingertips-- under the nails-- of my left hand. (The right remained unscathed. I'm sure this is because I held the knife in my right hand and used mostly my left to handle the peppers.) The burning was very slight-- so much so that I absentmindedly used a fingertip to scratch an eyelid. Instantly I realized that that had been a mistake, and I went to rinse off my eye immediately.*
Burning my eye confirmed my suspicion that this had something to do with the peppers, so I googled it and ended up reading a thread of all sorts of humorous and horrifying stories of jalapeño-based misery. Some people didn't realize their hands were "contaminated" until after they'd gone to the bathroom, for instance. One man didn't feel it himself, but his wife certainly did (. . .later that night). Then there was the woman whose hands burned so badly-- just from jalapeños!-- that she went to an emergency clinic in search of relief.
Reading all that (and how it was so frequently a delayed reaction) made me a little afraid that this was only the beginning-- and by this time, the burning had increased somewhat-- so I tried a couple of the possible remedies I'd read about. First, I soaked my fingertips in vinegar**. Later, I took a piece of aloe vera plant and squished as much as I could of the gel under my nails. Both provided temporary relief, but at least some of the stinging came back. If it had been worse, I would've tried tomato sauce/paste next, but it just wasn't that bad, so I was able to ignore it.
Throughout the evening, I would periodically feel a slight flare-up of discomfort-- usually when I was using my left hand-- putting pressure on it by picking something up. Even this morning, as I type, I occasionally feel a very mild tingle in the tip of a finger. Just enough to remind me of yesterday and why I will never again risk worse burning by chopping peppers gloveless.
It seems that (as with most things) some people are more susceptible to small amounts of capsaicin than are others. (Thus the man who didn't feel it but whose wife did-- and the number of people who wrote that they never feel it on their hands, but if they touch an eye or their mouth, they burn just as much as the next person.) In any case, I think I'll take some precautions next time. Some people wrote that latex gloves don't work, but that rubber gloves do. I'll probably try rubber gloves next time, just to be on the safe side. . .
(Looking back into my dimmest memory, I think Mom may have warned me about the peppers when she passed them along to me. . . I guess I wasn't paying enough attention. Shame on me!)
*At that point, it was impossible not to remember the story of how poor little Tonya had been playing with some ornamental peppers (unbeknownst to the adults). I don't remember all the details, but I think that somehow her fingers started burning, so she put them in her mouth. That made her mouth start to burn, so she started crying, which led to-- as you've probably guessed-- her putting her hands to her eyes and burning them, too! Ouch!
**I read this morning that vinegar (like water) is ineffective at removing capsaicin. (So my fingers are all vinegary for no good reason? How rude!) On the other hand, they list vegetable oil and Vaseline as being possibly useful. Then again, this is Wikipedia I'm citing here, so, um, take it or leave it, pretty much.
- - - - - - -
I mentioned exercising indoors, before. My current favorite indoor exercises (because I have more time to waste this morning) are all Wii-based. (There's something both satisfying and amusing about using video games to be more physically active!)
Number one on the list is Gold Gym's Cardio Workout. If you enjoy the boxing elements in other games (Wii Fit, EA Sports Active), you might want to give this one a look. If on the other hand you hate the boxing elements, avoid this one like the plague, because that's pretty much all it is. (g) I liked the boxing, and I haven't been disappointed in this "game". Just as EA Sports Active's boxing takes Wii Fit's version to the next level, so too does Cardio Workout.
Here are some points of interest about the game:
- Though the game info says it works with the balance board, that's a bit misleading. Only a couple of exercises use the balance board-- none of the actual workouts do. Instead, you stand at a slight angle to the TV and are prompted to keep up a rhythm of shifting your balance from one foot to the other. This helps keep your heartrate up. At first, I found it kind of awkward-- partly because I thought you were supposed to be stepping each time. You're not (unless they specifically tell you to do so). You just shift your balance from the front foot to the back foot and vice versa, at a decent pace. If you're doing this to get a workout, you really need to try to keep up with the balance shifting. I'm sure it makes a huge difference in how much work it is.
- For most of the workouts (or at least the ones I'm familiar with-- because I haven't tried them all, yet), you're "just standing there". They don't ask you to do any kicks or steps-- just shift your balance and throw punches. As you work your way up in difficulty, they add in "ducking" (like quick squats) and "weaving", and later on, they do incorporate quick steps to the side or forward and backward. For someone like me, though, even the ones with just ducking are a pretty good workout. (The first couple times I did those, I could definitely tell the next day that I'd been working those specific muscles. Now, the fact that I don't feel sore the next day tells me that I've made some progress.)
- If you're like me, you'll probably have a little problem getting some of the punches to register. There are (I think) three different types of punches. Jab and cross ("1,2") are the easiest-- just straightforward punches like the ones used in Wii Fit. Then there are hooks (left and right) and uppercuts (again, left and right). Try not to despair if you find yourself shouting at the TV, "I did it! I made that punch! Why aren't you giving me credit, you miserable piece of--?!" -- Ahem. As I was saying, don't give up if you have trouble getting punches to "count". It does get easier with practice.
- The music. . . One of the parts of the game I haven't been thrilled with is the music selection. They have a fair number of songs to choose from, but they're mostly very. . . video-gamey. It's probably hard for game designers to find music that everyone will like, but still. . . There's always the option to turn down the music and play your own instead. I just wonder if the beat/rhythm of the music you play might throw you off. Maybe the ones included in the game all have the same beat. (I haven't paid that much attention to them, honestly.)
- You earn points for every workout you do, based in part on how well you do. (You get a bonus if you have a "perfect" workout-- no missed moves-- which makes it even more annoying when the Wii doesn't register one of your punches. (g)) The game keeps up with your points not only so you can track your progress, but also so you can "go shopping". Punches/points translate into "gold", which you use to purchase new clothes for your mii. I think that part of the game is a little bit pointless, but I guess it might be more of a motivator for other people. Some might be motivated just by the desire to earn enough gold to buy every single item possible. Personally, I'd be more interested if there were new songs or workouts for sale in the shop. . . You do earn/unlock new music, workouts, instructors, and-- get this-- clothing for your instructors, just by putting in the time/punches. (Periodically you'll get a notice that you've unlocked something new.) So you can change not only your own mii's clothes, but also those of your instructor. There are several instructors from which to choose, by the way. I think they have different voices and say slightly different things during workouts, but it's not something I've given a lot of thought. (g)
Dance Dance Revolution: Disney Grooves. We chose this one because it came with two dance mats, so we could play simultaneously. I've seen some complain that the routines aren't sufficiently difficult. To them, I stick out my tongue, because they must be in much better physical condition than I am. It's difficult enough, trust me, and I'm just playing on the "Difficult" level-- not "Expert". It's certainly enough to give you a little exercise. I think I have to "dance" longer than I have to "box" to get the same kind of results-- at least it feels longer-- but it's nice for a little of a change.
Wii Fit (Free Step). I haven't used this one as much as the other two, but I think that's going to change. This is nice for a lower impact workout, and I like that I can be watching whatever I want on TV (or listening to my own music) while I do it, yet I still get credit in the game for exercising. (g) I know it's not much different than if I just went for a walk around the house (or, well, outside-- but that's just crazy-talk), but I'm more likely to do it if I'm getting points for it, so in a way there is a difference. Also, because it's "just walking", I think it will be easy to talk myself into doing it, even on days I don't really feel like exercising. (That's the plan, anyway.)
- - - - - - -
Well, time to go start the day for real! :o)
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
All I ever do here is complain. . .
Annoying things seem to be all that have the power to spurn me into action, here on this blog.
The annoyance this time is this story.
For the time when it's no longer available online, here's the gist:
An opinion writer defends Michelle Obama's statement that food manufacturers should "rething the products that [they]'re offering, the information that [they] provide about these products and how [they] market those products to our children". She (the columnist) doesn't like it that Mrs. Obama "has been accused of 'federalizing fat' and labeled 'the first nanny'". No, she doesn't like it one bit, because "it's not the federal government that's playing the role of nanny here". That role has been filled by the evil food and beverage marketers.
So then she goes on for several paragraphs about how most ads targeted at children "hawk the least healthy foods". Blah blah blah, "as a sedentary activity, television-watching alone doesn't contribute to childhood obesity; rather, it's the incessant bombardment of ads associated with television-watching that "robustly" correlates with obesity". It's those wicked commercials! PBS good, commercial TV bad!
Here's one direct quote: "So when a child begs for fruit-free Froot Loops, he's simply doing what he's been commanded to do, clean-your-room style, by the marketing nanny."
My answer: So when your child begs for fruit-free Froot Loops, it's simply part of being a responsible adult that you, the lucky parent, must make the decision whether or not to buy the Froot Loops.
(Incidentally, don't you bet that Froot Loops loves being the first product that comes to mind when people think of sugary, bad-for-you foods that kids love?)
If you decide that your child doesn't really need the "fruit-free" cereal, you get the joyous job of teaching your little sweetie-pie the meaning of the word "NO". If you find that you have trouble telling your kids "no", I feel sorry for you. You're really in for it. Maybe you should consider curbing their "commercial TV" time. (Heck, if you have a TiVo, you can just fast-forward through the commercials, right?)
Of course, the columnist has already thought of this, but she's not swayed. She still thinks it's the responsibility of someone other than a child's parents to monitor what food commercials s/he sees-- and by extention, what foods s/he craves.
"Only today is the federal government demonstrating a willingness to risk the nanny state accusations." (Oh, that's the least of their problems. They're being accused of much, much worse-- such as ramming through legislation against the will of the people-- dragging us down into debt so deep that it will take generations to dig our way out-- need I go on?)
"We could do without manipulative, profit-driven nannies. But we do need the FTC as a cop on the beat of wayward marketers."
Seriously though, lady!
I mean, are there unscrupulous advertisers? Yes, there probably are, as there seem to be some unscrupulous people in every profession, if you go looking for them. But are marketers really the root of the problem, here? What would you have them do? Their job is to sell their products-- and there's nothing wrong with their products (if we're just talking sweet foods). Eaten in proper moderation, even sugary cereals are ok. ("*gasp* No. She couldn't really believe that, could she? She's finally lost her last shred of sanity. . .") It's not like they're pushing drugs and alcohol.
At what point do parents take over responsibility for the well-being (including eating and exercise habits) of their own children? You can't force someone to overeat just by showing them commercials-- and that is doubly true for children, who (generally speaking) do not purchase their own food. It doesn't matter how many times little Emma sees those commercials for Froot Loops-- doesn't matter how much she decides she wants them-- doesn't matter how she cries or begs Mommy to buy them for her or to let her eat them every day (and in jumbo portions). Until Mommy (or Daddy or Auntie or whoever) gives in to her every whim on a daily basis, none of it matters. No-one is forcing Mommy to buy the Froot Loops, and you'll not convince me otherwise.
The annoyance this time is this story.
For the time when it's no longer available online, here's the gist:
An opinion writer defends Michelle Obama's statement that food manufacturers should "rething the products that [they]'re offering, the information that [they] provide about these products and how [they] market those products to our children". She (the columnist) doesn't like it that Mrs. Obama "has been accused of 'federalizing fat' and labeled 'the first nanny'". No, she doesn't like it one bit, because "it's not the federal government that's playing the role of nanny here". That role has been filled by the evil food and beverage marketers.
So then she goes on for several paragraphs about how most ads targeted at children "hawk the least healthy foods". Blah blah blah, "as a sedentary activity, television-watching alone doesn't contribute to childhood obesity; rather, it's the incessant bombardment of ads associated with television-watching that "robustly" correlates with obesity". It's those wicked commercials! PBS good, commercial TV bad!
Here's one direct quote: "So when a child begs for fruit-free Froot Loops, he's simply doing what he's been commanded to do, clean-your-room style, by the marketing nanny."
My answer: So when your child begs for fruit-free Froot Loops, it's simply part of being a responsible adult that you, the lucky parent, must make the decision whether or not to buy the Froot Loops.
(Incidentally, don't you bet that Froot Loops loves being the first product that comes to mind when people think of sugary, bad-for-you foods that kids love?)
If you decide that your child doesn't really need the "fruit-free" cereal, you get the joyous job of teaching your little sweetie-pie the meaning of the word "NO". If you find that you have trouble telling your kids "no", I feel sorry for you. You're really in for it. Maybe you should consider curbing their "commercial TV" time. (Heck, if you have a TiVo, you can just fast-forward through the commercials, right?)
Of course, the columnist has already thought of this, but she's not swayed. She still thinks it's the responsibility of someone other than a child's parents to monitor what food commercials s/he sees-- and by extention, what foods s/he craves.
"Only today is the federal government demonstrating a willingness to risk the nanny state accusations." (Oh, that's the least of their problems. They're being accused of much, much worse-- such as ramming through legislation against the will of the people-- dragging us down into debt so deep that it will take generations to dig our way out-- need I go on?)
"We could do without manipulative, profit-driven nannies. But we do need the FTC as a cop on the beat of wayward marketers."
Seriously though, lady!
I mean, are there unscrupulous advertisers? Yes, there probably are, as there seem to be some unscrupulous people in every profession, if you go looking for them. But are marketers really the root of the problem, here? What would you have them do? Their job is to sell their products-- and there's nothing wrong with their products (if we're just talking sweet foods). Eaten in proper moderation, even sugary cereals are ok. ("*gasp* No. She couldn't really believe that, could she? She's finally lost her last shred of sanity. . .") It's not like they're pushing drugs and alcohol.
At what point do parents take over responsibility for the well-being (including eating and exercise habits) of their own children? You can't force someone to overeat just by showing them commercials-- and that is doubly true for children, who (generally speaking) do not purchase their own food. It doesn't matter how many times little Emma sees those commercials for Froot Loops-- doesn't matter how much she decides she wants them-- doesn't matter how she cries or begs Mommy to buy them for her or to let her eat them every day (and in jumbo portions). Until Mommy (or Daddy or Auntie or whoever) gives in to her every whim on a daily basis, none of it matters. No-one is forcing Mommy to buy the Froot Loops, and you'll not convince me otherwise.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Back Pain and "Health Care Reform"
I have been a bad blogger lately, but at least I have something of an excuse for the past week or so-- that excuse being we've had company to entertain us-- Thorbjörn and Jocke visiting from Sweden-- and I've been struck (since last Saturday evening) with a bout of mysterious back pain.
(Note: I probably ought to warn you right away that this isn't likely to be a happy or interesting post. I'm up late with more of the same pain, and I don't really have anything fun to write about. This is mostly a "venting" entry and a way to remember a few specifics in case the need to remember them should ever arise. Once I'm feeling better, I'll try to write something other than a grumble. Really. My tender, delicate feelings will not be hurt-- at all-- if you choose to skip this. In fact, I recommend it. (g) Again, really.)
The only reasons I can think of for the pain are one of these:
1) Saturday, I spent a lot of time standing around and sitting at tables. When I sit at tables, I probably tend to not have the best posture. . . and maybe somehow that triggered something. (?)
2) Possibly during cleaning on Tuesday and Wednesday I strained my back somehow. I know that it sometimes takes a day or so for pain to begin after a strain, but how likely it is to take three or four days, I'm not sure. . .
3) Something else that completely slips my mind-- possibly something that I'd never expect to cause back pain. Or I was just a ticking time bomb of back pain waiting to go off at the worst possible moment. ;o)
I feel like a little of a sissy-baby for making such a big deal about it, but it's just so frustrating. I've probably been lucky, but for years and years, I practically never took pain pills, and in more recent years, when I have started taking them for the occasional headache or abdominal cramp, they've tended to work. Sometimes they work better than others, but I can usually tell a difference, at least, even if I find I need to take the bigger recommended dose. This time, though, nothing I've taken seems to reliably put a dent in the pain. (Unless I'm simply a very poor judge of it. . .)
(For future reference:)
The pain tends to sneak up on me in the middle of the evening (though tonight it came earlier). By the time I'm ready to think about sleep, it's bad enough that I feel that sleep is impossible, so I end up sitting up most (if not all) of the night, possibly able to drift off to sleep on the couch at 2 to 3 a.m. When I wake, the pain is noticeably lessened-- sometimes no longer even perceptible. I can usually go through the rest of the day (sometimes with some naps to make up for missed sleep) without any recurrence of the pain. There may be an occasional light "don't forget me yet" twinge or numbness in the general area, but that's about it.
Saturday and Sunday night were two bad nights in a row. (I think Sunday wasn't as bad, though.) Monday, I was able to go to sleep at a normal hour, but on Tuesday night, the pain returned. For the rest of the week, there seemed to be a pattern of a good night followed by a bad night. (So, as far as I can recall, Wed. = good, Thurs. = bad, Fri. = good, Sat. = bad.) Until tonight, since I'm "enjoying" my second bad night in a row. (Which is what happened last weekend, too, whatever that means, if anything. . .)
I should probably try to describe the pain itself, if I'm writing this complain-a-thon under the pretense of keeping a record for future reference, but I'm bad at describing pain. . . I'll try anyway.
The pain starts out focused in mostly the middle back (maybe lower middle?), more on the right side than the left. As it progresses (when it progresses), it seems to gradually spread to the sides and front-- pretty much the same area, only on my front as well as my back. I'm pretty sure this is just a sign that I'm tensing or putting extra stress on other muscles as a result of the back pain, since it seems only to happen after the back pain has been around a little while. The lower and upper back can sometimes hurt a little, too, but all this other pain tends to fade earlier in the night than the middle-back pain, and it all seems to originate with that middle-back pain, more to the right side than the left.
When the pain is at its worst, I feel a little queasy, but I'm almost positive this is just a reaction to the pain itself, not a symptom of whatever's causing the pain. I've never "been sick" from it-- just felt unsettled, like a mild case of indigestion.
. . .What else?
As for what kind of pain it is. . . I don't know how to describe it. It can be fairly sharp at the worst times, but mostly it's not generally at that jabby, "take your breath away" level, just steady, persistent discomfort-- enough to keep me from getting to sleep at a normal hour.
I've tried a few types of pain killers (ibuprofen, Advil, Tylenol), including some with sleep aids. The first "good" night after this all started, I had taken some type of generic Tylenol PM as a precautionary measure, so I thought I'd found my miracle drug. Oops-- not so fast. I eventually learned that it doesn't seem to make a big difference. Some nights I took it, I'd sleep fine. Other nights, I'd never get to sleep until 2 or 3. Instead, I'd just be groggier as I sat up with the pain.
(Ah, the Pain. My nightly companion. Many's the time I'd look at my [nonexistent] watch and op' my mouth with every intention of saying, "Well, look at the time! I guess I'd better be going off to bed now. And you! You must be exhausted after all that work!" only to find myself instantly hushed up. "No sleep for you yet, silly girl. Oh, no. I have other plans for you. . ." . . .Sorry. I blame the lack of sleep.)
Heating pad-- sometimes it seems to help, sometimes it just makes me feel like my trunk is burning while my hands and feet are freezing, which makes me feel really queasy and "Ohmygoshwhat'swrongwithme?!"-ish.
Stretching-- It feels at the worst times like if I could just stretch hard/far enough, it might feel better, but it really doesn't seem to make much immediate difference.
Massage-- Seemed to help for a little while, one time-- but only very temporarily. The next time, it didn't really seem to make even a temporary difference, maybe because I was in the worst part of the pain the second time, so it was harder to relax.
Tonight, upon some advice from others who have experience with back pain, I tried lying for a while (probably about 45 minutes one of the times) with my back flat on the floor and my legs up (in the seat of a chair). The idea is that this position takes all the stress off your back. (Or is it just the lower back?) Both times, it was not comfortable at first, but gradually became somewhat better. The pain never went away entirely (not sure if it was even "supposed" to, or if it just gives your back muscles a break), and I didn't notice any marked improvement once I got up again. It may be that this is meant to make more of a difference over the long term.
I can't tell if this pain is muscle-based or if it's caused by some sort of issue with nerves, but I lean toward muscle-based. (This is probably immediately obvious to people with more anatomical/pain management knowledge than I have.)
The biggest thing that helps is time, I guess. Sitting up and waiting, trying to find a decently comfortable position and just doing something to take my mind off it. Crocheting & listening to music, for instance, or complaining about my lamentable situation on "the Twitter". Writing long, detailed, and excruciatingly boring medical entries in my blog seems to work, too. I mean, yes, the pain's still there (Don't panic, my friend. I feel you, loud and clear. Calm yourself!), but it's much less. . . well, painful now than it was an hour or however long ago it was when I gave up hope of falling straight asleep and came out here instead. I might even be able to go to sleep soon, if I try. (For some reason, I think it's easier for me to fall asleep on the couch than in bed, with this back pain. I don't know why. Maybe it's all psychological. . . Anyway, it does seem easier to drift off through a little remnant of pain when I'm in this room.)
In short (ha ha ha, I'm hiLARious), if I had experienced this pain for one night-- maybe even two nights-- I would have been uncomfortable, but would have just shrugged my shoulders and been grateful when it was over. When it comes and goes for a week, I start getting more anxious and irritated. I begin to make mental lists of what I might be willing to do to get the pain to just - go - away. (Forever.) I find myself wondering how much longer it will stay-- and what I did to trigger it in the first place. (And how I can arrange to NEVER, EVER do that again, so long as I may live.)
I also question how bad this pain really is, comparatively speaking. Do I have a low threshold for pain? I'd always hoped and even been told once or twice that the opposite was true. After all, I took only half of one of the prescribed pain pills the dentist gave me after removing-- cutting out, in spots-- my wisdom teeth. And the women at the orthodontist's office were so impressed by my ability to bite those metal bands into place. (No, seriously. They seemed quite impressed. Maybe they were just surprised I could bite so hard? (g)) Then there was the pain associated with having braces in general. It definitely hurt, sometimes, but I don't recall taking pain killers. Somehow it was just manageable without anything. (Or maybe my terror of swallowing pills had something to do with that. (g) Hm. . .) In any case, now I wonder about that. . . Maybe I just have (had?) a high tolerance for mouth-related pain. Or maybe my threshold has lowered with (ever-increasing) age. It's troubling. One of those things you don't often think about until Pain comes around to pay a call and keeps you up at night.
(And then I also can't help but think of people facing horrible diseases and syndromes and infections. You wonder how much pain they might be in, all the time, and feel guilty for whining about what you have every reason to hope and believe will be a temporary discomfort. . . . Of course, it's easier to do that when the worst of your own pain has faded a little. . .)
Anyway, enough on that subject.
In other news, "health care reform" passed tonight. I have heard so many horribly discouraging things about this bill and where it may take us that that might be enough to keep me up at night even without this back pain. I'm infuriated, I'm discouraged, I'm. . . frightened-- fearful of what this might mean for myself, my family and the whole country. I feel powerless. I cast my vote in 2008, and it didn't do any good. I'll be voting again, every chance I get, to try to reverse some of what I see as damaging policies, but so many people (who are so much better informed than I am on these issues) seem to think that reversal will be incredibly difficult, if not impossible-- and unless more of my fellow voters have woken up by the next election, I don't have faith that my vote will be of any use whatsoever. This is why I probably shouldn't follow politics. (It depresses me.) This is also why it is so important that more everyday, common-sense Americans do follow politics! If more had paid attention and acted in previous elections, we might be in a better position today.
I guess there's not much to do now but pray (or keep praying), pay attention (even if it gives heartburn), and wait for November. . . and try not to lash out at those voters who have contributed to the tearing down of our country (brick by brick-- or in this case, wall by wall), because so many of them seem to be clueless as to what they're doing, and it's wrong (not to mention fruitless) to be unkind to dumb animals. ;oP
The End.
(Note: I probably ought to warn you right away that this isn't likely to be a happy or interesting post. I'm up late with more of the same pain, and I don't really have anything fun to write about. This is mostly a "venting" entry and a way to remember a few specifics in case the need to remember them should ever arise. Once I'm feeling better, I'll try to write something other than a grumble. Really. My tender, delicate feelings will not be hurt-- at all-- if you choose to skip this. In fact, I recommend it. (g) Again, really.)
The only reasons I can think of for the pain are one of these:
1) Saturday, I spent a lot of time standing around and sitting at tables. When I sit at tables, I probably tend to not have the best posture. . . and maybe somehow that triggered something. (?)
2) Possibly during cleaning on Tuesday and Wednesday I strained my back somehow. I know that it sometimes takes a day or so for pain to begin after a strain, but how likely it is to take three or four days, I'm not sure. . .
3) Something else that completely slips my mind-- possibly something that I'd never expect to cause back pain. Or I was just a ticking time bomb of back pain waiting to go off at the worst possible moment. ;o)
I feel like a little of a sissy-baby for making such a big deal about it, but it's just so frustrating. I've probably been lucky, but for years and years, I practically never took pain pills, and in more recent years, when I have started taking them for the occasional headache or abdominal cramp, they've tended to work. Sometimes they work better than others, but I can usually tell a difference, at least, even if I find I need to take the bigger recommended dose. This time, though, nothing I've taken seems to reliably put a dent in the pain. (Unless I'm simply a very poor judge of it. . .)
(For future reference:)
The pain tends to sneak up on me in the middle of the evening (though tonight it came earlier). By the time I'm ready to think about sleep, it's bad enough that I feel that sleep is impossible, so I end up sitting up most (if not all) of the night, possibly able to drift off to sleep on the couch at 2 to 3 a.m. When I wake, the pain is noticeably lessened-- sometimes no longer even perceptible. I can usually go through the rest of the day (sometimes with some naps to make up for missed sleep) without any recurrence of the pain. There may be an occasional light "don't forget me yet" twinge or numbness in the general area, but that's about it.
Saturday and Sunday night were two bad nights in a row. (I think Sunday wasn't as bad, though.) Monday, I was able to go to sleep at a normal hour, but on Tuesday night, the pain returned. For the rest of the week, there seemed to be a pattern of a good night followed by a bad night. (So, as far as I can recall, Wed. = good, Thurs. = bad, Fri. = good, Sat. = bad.) Until tonight, since I'm "enjoying" my second bad night in a row. (Which is what happened last weekend, too, whatever that means, if anything. . .)
I should probably try to describe the pain itself, if I'm writing this complain-a-thon under the pretense of keeping a record for future reference, but I'm bad at describing pain. . . I'll try anyway.
The pain starts out focused in mostly the middle back (maybe lower middle?), more on the right side than the left. As it progresses (when it progresses), it seems to gradually spread to the sides and front-- pretty much the same area, only on my front as well as my back. I'm pretty sure this is just a sign that I'm tensing or putting extra stress on other muscles as a result of the back pain, since it seems only to happen after the back pain has been around a little while. The lower and upper back can sometimes hurt a little, too, but all this other pain tends to fade earlier in the night than the middle-back pain, and it all seems to originate with that middle-back pain, more to the right side than the left.
When the pain is at its worst, I feel a little queasy, but I'm almost positive this is just a reaction to the pain itself, not a symptom of whatever's causing the pain. I've never "been sick" from it-- just felt unsettled, like a mild case of indigestion.
. . .What else?
As for what kind of pain it is. . . I don't know how to describe it. It can be fairly sharp at the worst times, but mostly it's not generally at that jabby, "take your breath away" level, just steady, persistent discomfort-- enough to keep me from getting to sleep at a normal hour.
I've tried a few types of pain killers (ibuprofen, Advil, Tylenol), including some with sleep aids. The first "good" night after this all started, I had taken some type of generic Tylenol PM as a precautionary measure, so I thought I'd found my miracle drug. Oops-- not so fast. I eventually learned that it doesn't seem to make a big difference. Some nights I took it, I'd sleep fine. Other nights, I'd never get to sleep until 2 or 3. Instead, I'd just be groggier as I sat up with the pain.
(Ah, the Pain. My nightly companion. Many's the time I'd look at my [nonexistent] watch and op' my mouth with every intention of saying, "Well, look at the time! I guess I'd better be going off to bed now. And you! You must be exhausted after all that work!" only to find myself instantly hushed up. "No sleep for you yet, silly girl. Oh, no. I have other plans for you. . ." . . .Sorry. I blame the lack of sleep.)
Heating pad-- sometimes it seems to help, sometimes it just makes me feel like my trunk is burning while my hands and feet are freezing, which makes me feel really queasy and "Ohmygoshwhat'swrongwithme?!"-ish.
Stretching-- It feels at the worst times like if I could just stretch hard/far enough, it might feel better, but it really doesn't seem to make much immediate difference.
Massage-- Seemed to help for a little while, one time-- but only very temporarily. The next time, it didn't really seem to make even a temporary difference, maybe because I was in the worst part of the pain the second time, so it was harder to relax.
Tonight, upon some advice from others who have experience with back pain, I tried lying for a while (probably about 45 minutes one of the times) with my back flat on the floor and my legs up (in the seat of a chair). The idea is that this position takes all the stress off your back. (Or is it just the lower back?) Both times, it was not comfortable at first, but gradually became somewhat better. The pain never went away entirely (not sure if it was even "supposed" to, or if it just gives your back muscles a break), and I didn't notice any marked improvement once I got up again. It may be that this is meant to make more of a difference over the long term.
I can't tell if this pain is muscle-based or if it's caused by some sort of issue with nerves, but I lean toward muscle-based. (This is probably immediately obvious to people with more anatomical/pain management knowledge than I have.)
The biggest thing that helps is time, I guess. Sitting up and waiting, trying to find a decently comfortable position and just doing something to take my mind off it. Crocheting & listening to music, for instance, or complaining about my lamentable situation on "the Twitter". Writing long, detailed, and excruciatingly boring medical entries in my blog seems to work, too. I mean, yes, the pain's still there (Don't panic, my friend. I feel you, loud and clear. Calm yourself!), but it's much less. . . well, painful now than it was an hour or however long ago it was when I gave up hope of falling straight asleep and came out here instead. I might even be able to go to sleep soon, if I try. (For some reason, I think it's easier for me to fall asleep on the couch than in bed, with this back pain. I don't know why. Maybe it's all psychological. . . Anyway, it does seem easier to drift off through a little remnant of pain when I'm in this room.)
In short (ha ha ha, I'm hiLARious), if I had experienced this pain for one night-- maybe even two nights-- I would have been uncomfortable, but would have just shrugged my shoulders and been grateful when it was over. When it comes and goes for a week, I start getting more anxious and irritated. I begin to make mental lists of what I might be willing to do to get the pain to just - go - away. (Forever.) I find myself wondering how much longer it will stay-- and what I did to trigger it in the first place. (And how I can arrange to NEVER, EVER do that again, so long as I may live.)
I also question how bad this pain really is, comparatively speaking. Do I have a low threshold for pain? I'd always hoped and even been told once or twice that the opposite was true. After all, I took only half of one of the prescribed pain pills the dentist gave me after removing-- cutting out, in spots-- my wisdom teeth. And the women at the orthodontist's office were so impressed by my ability to bite those metal bands into place. (No, seriously. They seemed quite impressed. Maybe they were just surprised I could bite so hard? (g)) Then there was the pain associated with having braces in general. It definitely hurt, sometimes, but I don't recall taking pain killers. Somehow it was just manageable without anything. (Or maybe my terror of swallowing pills had something to do with that. (g) Hm. . .) In any case, now I wonder about that. . . Maybe I just have (had?) a high tolerance for mouth-related pain. Or maybe my threshold has lowered with (ever-increasing) age. It's troubling. One of those things you don't often think about until Pain comes around to pay a call and keeps you up at night.
(And then I also can't help but think of people facing horrible diseases and syndromes and infections. You wonder how much pain they might be in, all the time, and feel guilty for whining about what you have every reason to hope and believe will be a temporary discomfort. . . . Of course, it's easier to do that when the worst of your own pain has faded a little. . .)
Anyway, enough on that subject.
In other news, "health care reform" passed tonight. I have heard so many horribly discouraging things about this bill and where it may take us that that might be enough to keep me up at night even without this back pain. I'm infuriated, I'm discouraged, I'm. . . frightened-- fearful of what this might mean for myself, my family and the whole country. I feel powerless. I cast my vote in 2008, and it didn't do any good. I'll be voting again, every chance I get, to try to reverse some of what I see as damaging policies, but so many people (who are so much better informed than I am on these issues) seem to think that reversal will be incredibly difficult, if not impossible-- and unless more of my fellow voters have woken up by the next election, I don't have faith that my vote will be of any use whatsoever. This is why I probably shouldn't follow politics. (It depresses me.) This is also why it is so important that more everyday, common-sense Americans do follow politics! If more had paid attention and acted in previous elections, we might be in a better position today.
I guess there's not much to do now but pray (or keep praying), pay attention (even if it gives heartburn), and wait for November. . . and try not to lash out at those voters who have contributed to the tearing down of our country (brick by brick-- or in this case, wall by wall), because so many of them seem to be clueless as to what they're doing, and it's wrong (not to mention fruitless) to be unkind to dumb animals. ;oP
The End.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Maybe it's none of my business, but. . .
Considering that this is happening in Mississippi-- not Alabama-- maybe it's none of my business. . . However, some people (charged with controlling illegal drug use in MS) are already expressing hopes that the states surrounding MS (which do include AL, by the way (g)) will "follow suit", so it may be just a matter of time.
The story, briefly, is this:
Lawmakers in MS are on the verge of requiring people in their state to have a doctor's prescription to buy "cold medications containing pseudoephedrine"-- i.e. Sudafed & similar. In case you've been living under a rock the past few years (or in a place where meth isn't a problem), this is because these drugs can be used (in combination with other chemicals) to create homemade drugs-- meth.
They've already moved these cold and sinus medicines behind the counter and required you to sign for them in the pharmacy. (Or at least I think that's how it works. Honestly, I've never bought Sudafed. ...Which may lead you to wonder why I care at all. Mainly, I care because I want to know I can get it if I ever do need it, and because the situation is just ridiculous.)
So, as if that wasn't enough of a hassle, the next step is requiring you to have a doctor's prescription to buy something that ten years ago (I'm estimating here) would've been sitting on the shelf near the aspirin and Tylenol. Not because the drug itself is known to be more dangerous, now-- it's the same as it's ever been-- but because there are some idiots out there who use it to make an illegal drug.
Apparently they're having lots of trouble with meth labs in MS:
Proponents of the measure say that if you truly need the medicine, you'll still be able to get it-- yes, but only after you go to the doctor for something that most of us would never see a doctor about, under normal circumstances. Set aside the expense of seeing the doctor when you really don't need to (probably the biggest objection). What about the inconvenience? What about the fact that every time you go to the doctor, you're mixing with a group of other ill people, swapping your cold for their flu? What about the time (doctors', nurses', etc.) that will be wasted on people who just need a prescription for their Sudafed?
Of course, maybe some health care professionals actually like the idea:
Then there's the argument that the drug-makers will just go over state lines to buy the medicine. (That, of course, is why they hope the rest of us will adopt similar laws.) I tend to agree that as long as there's any way possible to make the drug (and make it profitably), some low-life will find it. Meanwhile, the law-abiding folks have to suffer yet another inconvenience-- another expense.
Maybe I'm just a heartless you-know-what for even thinking it, but even if we do manage to make meth a thing of the past, many (maybe even most) of the people who are hooked on it or would become addicted in the future will just find some other way to ruin their lives. You can't protect people from everything in the world, including themselves.
There are plenty of other illegal drugs out there, despite the never-ending war on drugs. (I'm not one of the nuts who feel it should all be legalized, but what we've been doing so far hasn't solved the problem of drug use.) Then there's that perfectly legal drug, alcohol. Maybe alcohol doesn't belong in the same category as meth, but it's certainly possible to ruin your life and someone else's with too much alcohol.
Life would be so much easier if fewer people were perfect imbeciles. I have a hard time being patient with my fellow man, sometimes.
The story, briefly, is this:
Lawmakers in MS are on the verge of requiring people in their state to have a doctor's prescription to buy "cold medications containing pseudoephedrine"-- i.e. Sudafed & similar. In case you've been living under a rock the past few years (or in a place where meth isn't a problem), this is because these drugs can be used (in combination with other chemicals) to create homemade drugs-- meth.
They've already moved these cold and sinus medicines behind the counter and required you to sign for them in the pharmacy. (Or at least I think that's how it works. Honestly, I've never bought Sudafed. ...Which may lead you to wonder why I care at all. Mainly, I care because I want to know I can get it if I ever do need it, and because the situation is just ridiculous.)
So, as if that wasn't enough of a hassle, the next step is requiring you to have a doctor's prescription to buy something that ten years ago (I'm estimating here) would've been sitting on the shelf near the aspirin and Tylenol. Not because the drug itself is known to be more dangerous, now-- it's the same as it's ever been-- but because there are some idiots out there who use it to make an illegal drug.
Apparently they're having lots of trouble with meth labs in MS:
Meth lab busts and arrests have skyrocketed in the state of Mississippi over the past year. There were more than 500 labs busted in 2009, that's 441more than in 2008. The new popular way to make the drug, the shake and bake method, is contributing to the problem.Well, that's bad, but is there really no better solution than requiring a prescription?
"2009 is the first year methamphetamine arrests have surpassed all other drug arrests, not just in Jackson County but in the state of Mississippi," Narcotics Task Force Commander Lt. Curtis Spiers said.
Lt. Spiers said the proposed ban against selling meds with meth ingredients to people who don't really need them won't create a problem for the people who are truly ill and need them.
"There are over 24 other different types of cold remedies, over the counter cold remedies, that are still available. This doesn't mean in any way shape or from that anyone who has the common cold has to go see a doctor because of it, it simply states you are going to have to go see a doctor to get a prescription for Sudafed," Lt. Spiers said.Ok. . . But what if I want to take Sudafed? What if I've found that it works best for me-- better than the "over 24 other different types of cold remedies"?
Proponents of the measure say that if you truly need the medicine, you'll still be able to get it-- yes, but only after you go to the doctor for something that most of us would never see a doctor about, under normal circumstances. Set aside the expense of seeing the doctor when you really don't need to (probably the biggest objection). What about the inconvenience? What about the fact that every time you go to the doctor, you're mixing with a group of other ill people, swapping your cold for their flu? What about the time (doctors', nurses', etc.) that will be wasted on people who just need a prescription for their Sudafed?
Of course, maybe some health care professionals actually like the idea:
Alexis Graves is a certified Pharmaceutical technician at Walgreens, she says the proposed law would give pharmacists and techs like her more time to concentrate on real patients.Alright. . . Here's an idea-- if you recognize the same people coming again and again for Sudafed-- if they seem to resemble in any way a "meth head"-- why not make a note of it and contact the authorities? Just an idea. . . (I suppose that would make too much sense. It's too much like profiling. Or something. . .)
"I think it is going to be an excellent idea, it really takes time from us when we are trying to fill prescriptions for customers who really need our customer service than dealing with a lot of meth heads in this town. If they get that law passed I'll really appreciate it, me and our team that works in the pharmacy," Graves said.
Then there's the argument that the drug-makers will just go over state lines to buy the medicine. (That, of course, is why they hope the rest of us will adopt similar laws.) I tend to agree that as long as there's any way possible to make the drug (and make it profitably), some low-life will find it. Meanwhile, the law-abiding folks have to suffer yet another inconvenience-- another expense.
Maybe I'm just a heartless you-know-what for even thinking it, but even if we do manage to make meth a thing of the past, many (maybe even most) of the people who are hooked on it or would become addicted in the future will just find some other way to ruin their lives. You can't protect people from everything in the world, including themselves.
There are plenty of other illegal drugs out there, despite the never-ending war on drugs. (I'm not one of the nuts who feel it should all be legalized, but what we've been doing so far hasn't solved the problem of drug use.) Then there's that perfectly legal drug, alcohol. Maybe alcohol doesn't belong in the same category as meth, but it's certainly possible to ruin your life and someone else's with too much alcohol.
Life would be so much easier if fewer people were perfect imbeciles. I have a hard time being patient with my fellow man, sometimes.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Twitter: My Source for Politics ;o)
(For the day that's surely coming when Twitter is but a distant memory. . .)
Jamie Dupree tweets the following:
Haven't we learned by now that you can't trust a word our of their mouths? If anything, work under the cautious assumption that the opposite is true!
(Hm. Didn't I say something about not dwelling on politics too much? Oh well, I'm still trying, but it doesn't do to go to sleep at the wheel either. [Ha. Like I have any real control over any of this nonsense.])
Jamie Dupree tweets the following:
- Some say public option is basically dead in the Senate bill, but Sen. Reid cautions that may not be true
- Sen Reid: "We can't disclose the details of what we've done, but believe me, we've got something that's good"
- Sen. Reid on news reports that the public option is dead: "It's not true, okay? Everyone understand that."
Haven't we learned by now that you can't trust a word our of their mouths? If anything, work under the cautious assumption that the opposite is true!
(Hm. Didn't I say something about not dwelling on politics too much? Oh well, I'm still trying, but it doesn't do to go to sleep at the wheel either. [Ha. Like I have any real control over any of this nonsense.])
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Those Evil Ad Execs ;o)
I went to the TV Guide website this morning, just curious about what might be coming on tonight. (Wasting time, of course. Isn't that why the Internet was invented?) An ad caught my eye:
First, I thought, "Ah, trying to cash in on all the overeating people do this time of year."
But for whatever reason, I couldn't look away, even though I actually haven't been overeating (or at least no more than usual) and didn't happen to be in dire need of the bubblegum-pink elixir. No, I was transfixed for another reason-- namely, that the longer I looked at the ad, the more I felt that I could be queasy, if I just stared long enough.
Is it just me, or does that Pepto-Bismol ad possess a mysterious nausea-inducing power?
I don't know if it's the shape of the. . Pepto ooze, or its color. . . The sheen, perhaps. The ease with which the mind likens it to the tumultuously quivering contents of an uneasy stomach. . .
Bleurgh.
Or maybe it's just that I've taken Pepto often enough that the mere thought of it is enough to make me feel sick.
Anyway, I wonder if the Pepto ad designer purposely tried to make anyone who sees it feel ill. Anything to boost sales, right? ;o)
First, I thought, "Ah, trying to cash in on all the overeating people do this time of year."
But for whatever reason, I couldn't look away, even though I actually haven't been overeating (or at least no more than usual) and didn't happen to be in dire need of the bubblegum-pink elixir. No, I was transfixed for another reason-- namely, that the longer I looked at the ad, the more I felt that I could be queasy, if I just stared long enough.
Is it just me, or does that Pepto-Bismol ad possess a mysterious nausea-inducing power?
I don't know if it's the shape of the. . Pepto ooze, or its color. . . The sheen, perhaps. The ease with which the mind likens it to the tumultuously quivering contents of an uneasy stomach. . .
Bleurgh.
Or maybe it's just that I've taken Pepto often enough that the mere thought of it is enough to make me feel sick.
Anyway, I wonder if the Pepto ad designer purposely tried to make anyone who sees it feel ill. Anything to boost sales, right? ;o)
Friday, August 14, 2009
Prayers Requested
I guess it's a sad fact of life that sooner or later your family and friends (or you yourself) will face scary health problems. Lately, it feels like both sides of my family have had their share of worry. My Uncle Doug recently learned that he must have one of his kidneys removed. I don't know all the details, so I hesitate to write more, but the family would appreciate prayers for a successful surgery and treatment. (Thank you!)
Monday, June 15, 2009
More Snippets
More disconnected rambling:
Granny's doctor said that there was no damage to her heart (very good news) and that her heartbeat had remained regular long enough to allow her to check out of the hospital on Saturday. By all accounts, she's been enjoying relaxing in the comforts of home.
My "self-portrait challenge" is still on-going-- though in extended pause mode-- but I'm already declaring it a success. I may not have taught myself many (or any) new and incredible tricks with the camera, but I think I have been learning how to get a halfway decent photograph of myself.
Here are some of the things I've discovered as I've gone along:
Over the weekend, I heard for the first time about this story. Apparently, nearly 400 miniature Eskies (American Eskimo Dogs) were rescued from a puppy mill in Washington State. Some of them were living in shocking conditions, such as makeshift cages created by placing a sheet of plywood over shopping carts. It's hard for me to even imagine 400 Eskies in one place... I'm not a fanatic when it comes to so-called "backyard breeders". I don't think it's wrong for a family to breed a pet, so long as they are committed to either finding good homes for or keeping the resultant pups-- but I don't see how anyone could run a real puppy mill. They simply mustn't look at dogs as valued pets, but as some sort of commodity. I would feel guilty keeping "food animals" in those kinds of conditions, nevermind a cat or dog.
I was surprised to see a story about an Eskie puppy mill, because in my experience, Eskies aren't that common-- at least, not around here. The only reason I found the story to begin with was that I was trying to find out if the dog I glimpsed in a movie trailer (The Proposal) was an Eskie. I think it is, which is also surprising, since-- well, again, Eskies just haven't been that common, in recent years. Maybe this movie will help bring them back into the public eye. (They were very popular during certain periods of history.) Some will say that no good can come of popularity, but I wouldn't mind seeing more of them around-- and it's not like this is Disney's 101 American Eskimo Dogs or something on that level. (g)
- - - - - - -
Granny's doctor said that there was no damage to her heart (very good news) and that her heartbeat had remained regular long enough to allow her to check out of the hospital on Saturday. By all accounts, she's been enjoying relaxing in the comforts of home.
- - - - - - -
My "self-portrait challenge" is still on-going-- though in extended pause mode-- but I'm already declaring it a success. I may not have taught myself many (or any) new and incredible tricks with the camera, but I think I have been learning how to get a halfway decent photograph of myself.
Here are some of the things I've discovered as I've gone along:
* The most difficult aspect of self-portraiture (imho) is getting the focus just right. Thank goodness for digital photography! You may have to take ten or twenty photos to get one with the focus in the right spot-- and everything else just the way you want it-- but with digital cameras, that's no problem. The ability to instantly check your composition, focus, etc. in the preview screen and adjust your pose and camera settings accordingly really helps, too.
* The second most difficult aspect of self-portraiture is making the decision the take a photo of yourself. It's not always a pleasant prospect if you're already sensitive about your appearance or if you've come to dread looking at photos of yourself. If nothing else, after this project I'm definitely no longer "afraid" to point the camera in my own direction. I can weed out the bad ones and produce a presentable self-portrait. No-one else need ever see the embarrassing photos-- and I hardly have to look at them, myself, with my finger poised over "delete". ;o) (Technically, I guess I've always known these things, but experience has proven it and made me realize that it's nowhere near as painful a process as I once thought.)
* Photoshop is your very good friend. (g) Thank you, whoever invented the clone tool and the spot healing brush tool (among others in the Photoshop arsenal)!! And don't worry-- no, it's not cheating to use a photo-editing tool to remove a blemish here or smooth a wrinkle there. People have been retouching (or even "doctoring") photos for practically as long as photography's been around-- only these days it's so much easier (not to mention faster and cheaper) that anyone can do it. If you're the sort who feels that every pimple, scar, and crease must be preserved for an honest portrait, that's fine, but I have a feeling most of us can live with a few white lies in most of our self-portraits.
* I wear a lot of turquoise/teal tops around the house, these days. (g) Or at least I have just happened to be wearing that color in most of my self-portraits, so far. This is less a sign of my personal tastes than it is a sign of what colors designers have recently deemed best for low-priced fitted tees. (Though I do like teal.)
* I tend to like certain angles of myself better than others, and that is clearly reflected in the photos I choose to process and share. I guess all that stuff about people having a "good side" for photographing might be true, after all. ;o) My preferred angles seem to be those that make me look more slender-- and those that emphasize my eyes. The same is probably true for 99% of people. (I think I read somewhere, once, that most women name their eyes as their best physical feature.)
* Self-portraiture is actually fun and addictive. Previously, I hadn't taken many portraits of any kind-- beyond dog photos, I guess, if you count those as portraits-- so this is fairly new for me. There's lots of territory to explore. I think I'd be even more interested if it were easier to get the focus right, but that only makes it that much more exciting when you get a good one. I'm not sure how many photos I'll take before the end of this challenge-- or how many of them will be particularly good self-portraits-- but I think I can safely say that I'll continue experimenting with self-portraiture long after the challenge is over, and I think that qualifies this "project" as a definite triumph.
I heard through the grapevine that someone was wondering where to find the photos of Donald up on the roof (to accompany the story, here in this blog). Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me to take a photo at that time, but I did take a snap of Donald painting lumber for our patio project. (No, it's still not finished. But we're getting close! The bulk of it is done.) I doubt he'll be very fond of this photo, what with his 'round-the-yard painting clothes and messy hair. (g) But the demands of our public must be met! ;o)
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After reading a bit at a time for a long while, I finally finished the "new" L.M. Montgomery biography by Mary Rubio. I added that fact to my list of topics to blog about, a week or however long ago it is that I started compiling this entry, but now I find that I can't remember what I wanted to say about it.
The book was an interesting read, though I was familiar with the general "story", having read the published journals and a handful of other LMM biographies and related texts. It's been years since I learned that her life wasn't always the rosy, joy-filled thing that one might have expected or hoped for the woman who wrote Anne of Green Gables. The blame of it (if blame is to be assigned) falls partly on fate, partly on certain people in her life, and partly on herself-- her own choices and traits-- as is usually the case. There were a few things I didn't particularly like in the book, and because the endnotes were reportedly cut back to suit the publisher, there were times where I wondered what evidence Rubio had used to form some of her conclusions. Overall, however, I enjoyed reading the book and discovering the many new bits and pieces of information presented. This despite the fact that it was at times a sad story. Rubio did a good job balancing some of Maud's more tragic periods (as presented in the journals) with the existing records of her doings and the memories of those who knew her personally. LMM herself acknowledged that her journals were her vent-- and anyone who has ever kept a journal knows that a diary never presents life as it truly is-- but it was still good to read that, even during her darker years, her life "went on".
Just before the biography came out, LMM's granddaughter published an article revealing that Maud's youngest son (Stuart, who died in the 1980s) had believed and told his children that his famous mother committed suicide. Some fans were shocked; others admitted that they'd always assumed as much. Her final published journal entries, scanty and brief in the last years of her life, do indicate that she was suffering mental anguish, as well as physical problems, but I'd always taken for granted that her reported cause of death was legitimate.
Rubio's account suggests that LMM might have accidentally taken an overdose of her medications, which were possibly poisonous and mind-altering. (Back when I first read the journals, I was struck by the many different medicines she mentions by name-- most of them unfamiliar to me. I find it very plausible that she and her husband Ewan may have suffered adverse effects, both mental and physical, from an unfortunate combination of powerful drugs.) Certainly Rubio calls into doubt the idea that the page Stuart found was really a suicide note. I tend to agree that, if nothing else, it was not originally intended to be/written as a suicide note, but as a commentary on the now missing pages of her journal notes.
I'd like to believe that Maud's death was accidental, but either way, her writing has given joy to generations and will likely continue to do so for many years to come.
* The second most difficult aspect of self-portraiture is making the decision the take a photo of yourself. It's not always a pleasant prospect if you're already sensitive about your appearance or if you've come to dread looking at photos of yourself. If nothing else, after this project I'm definitely no longer "afraid" to point the camera in my own direction. I can weed out the bad ones and produce a presentable self-portrait. No-one else need ever see the embarrassing photos-- and I hardly have to look at them, myself, with my finger poised over "delete". ;o) (Technically, I guess I've always known these things, but experience has proven it and made me realize that it's nowhere near as painful a process as I once thought.)
* Photoshop is your very good friend. (g) Thank you, whoever invented the clone tool and the spot healing brush tool (among others in the Photoshop arsenal)!! And don't worry-- no, it's not cheating to use a photo-editing tool to remove a blemish here or smooth a wrinkle there. People have been retouching (or even "doctoring") photos for practically as long as photography's been around-- only these days it's so much easier (not to mention faster and cheaper) that anyone can do it. If you're the sort who feels that every pimple, scar, and crease must be preserved for an honest portrait, that's fine, but I have a feeling most of us can live with a few white lies in most of our self-portraits.
* I wear a lot of turquoise/teal tops around the house, these days. (g) Or at least I have just happened to be wearing that color in most of my self-portraits, so far. This is less a sign of my personal tastes than it is a sign of what colors designers have recently deemed best for low-priced fitted tees. (Though I do like teal.)
* I tend to like certain angles of myself better than others, and that is clearly reflected in the photos I choose to process and share. I guess all that stuff about people having a "good side" for photographing might be true, after all. ;o) My preferred angles seem to be those that make me look more slender-- and those that emphasize my eyes. The same is probably true for 99% of people. (I think I read somewhere, once, that most women name their eyes as their best physical feature.)
* Self-portraiture is actually fun and addictive. Previously, I hadn't taken many portraits of any kind-- beyond dog photos, I guess, if you count those as portraits-- so this is fairly new for me. There's lots of territory to explore. I think I'd be even more interested if it were easier to get the focus right, but that only makes it that much more exciting when you get a good one. I'm not sure how many photos I'll take before the end of this challenge-- or how many of them will be particularly good self-portraits-- but I think I can safely say that I'll continue experimenting with self-portraiture long after the challenge is over, and I think that qualifies this "project" as a definite triumph.
- - - - - - -
I heard through the grapevine that someone was wondering where to find the photos of Donald up on the roof (to accompany the story, here in this blog). Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me to take a photo at that time, but I did take a snap of Donald painting lumber for our patio project. (No, it's still not finished. But we're getting close! The bulk of it is done.) I doubt he'll be very fond of this photo, what with his 'round-the-yard painting clothes and messy hair. (g) But the demands of our public must be met! ;o)
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After reading a bit at a time for a long while, I finally finished the "new" L.M. Montgomery biography by Mary Rubio. I added that fact to my list of topics to blog about, a week or however long ago it is that I started compiling this entry, but now I find that I can't remember what I wanted to say about it.
The book was an interesting read, though I was familiar with the general "story", having read the published journals and a handful of other LMM biographies and related texts. It's been years since I learned that her life wasn't always the rosy, joy-filled thing that one might have expected or hoped for the woman who wrote Anne of Green Gables. The blame of it (if blame is to be assigned) falls partly on fate, partly on certain people in her life, and partly on herself-- her own choices and traits-- as is usually the case. There were a few things I didn't particularly like in the book, and because the endnotes were reportedly cut back to suit the publisher, there were times where I wondered what evidence Rubio had used to form some of her conclusions. Overall, however, I enjoyed reading the book and discovering the many new bits and pieces of information presented. This despite the fact that it was at times a sad story. Rubio did a good job balancing some of Maud's more tragic periods (as presented in the journals) with the existing records of her doings and the memories of those who knew her personally. LMM herself acknowledged that her journals were her vent-- and anyone who has ever kept a journal knows that a diary never presents life as it truly is-- but it was still good to read that, even during her darker years, her life "went on".
Just before the biography came out, LMM's granddaughter published an article revealing that Maud's youngest son (Stuart, who died in the 1980s) had believed and told his children that his famous mother committed suicide. Some fans were shocked; others admitted that they'd always assumed as much. Her final published journal entries, scanty and brief in the last years of her life, do indicate that she was suffering mental anguish, as well as physical problems, but I'd always taken for granted that her reported cause of death was legitimate.
Rubio's account suggests that LMM might have accidentally taken an overdose of her medications, which were possibly poisonous and mind-altering. (Back when I first read the journals, I was struck by the many different medicines she mentions by name-- most of them unfamiliar to me. I find it very plausible that she and her husband Ewan may have suffered adverse effects, both mental and physical, from an unfortunate combination of powerful drugs.) Certainly Rubio calls into doubt the idea that the page Stuart found was really a suicide note. I tend to agree that, if nothing else, it was not originally intended to be/written as a suicide note, but as a commentary on the now missing pages of her journal notes.
I'd like to believe that Maud's death was accidental, but either way, her writing has given joy to generations and will likely continue to do so for many years to come.
- - - - - - -
Over the weekend, I heard for the first time about this story. Apparently, nearly 400 miniature Eskies (American Eskimo Dogs) were rescued from a puppy mill in Washington State. Some of them were living in shocking conditions, such as makeshift cages created by placing a sheet of plywood over shopping carts. It's hard for me to even imagine 400 Eskies in one place... I'm not a fanatic when it comes to so-called "backyard breeders". I don't think it's wrong for a family to breed a pet, so long as they are committed to either finding good homes for or keeping the resultant pups-- but I don't see how anyone could run a real puppy mill. They simply mustn't look at dogs as valued pets, but as some sort of commodity. I would feel guilty keeping "food animals" in those kinds of conditions, nevermind a cat or dog.
I was surprised to see a story about an Eskie puppy mill, because in my experience, Eskies aren't that common-- at least, not around here. The only reason I found the story to begin with was that I was trying to find out if the dog I glimpsed in a movie trailer (The Proposal) was an Eskie. I think it is, which is also surprising, since-- well, again, Eskies just haven't been that common, in recent years. Maybe this movie will help bring them back into the public eye. (They were very popular during certain periods of history.) Some will say that no good can come of popularity, but I wouldn't mind seeing more of them around-- and it's not like this is Disney's 101 American Eskimo Dogs or something on that level. (g)
Friday, June 12, 2009
Granny L. -- Recovering & Ready to GO HOME!! ;o)
As you'll know if you read my "tweets" (the most recent of which are visible somewhere along the sidebar to the right), on Tuesday morning my my maternal grandmother had a heart attack. I don't think my grandparents knew for certain what was wrong, but my grandfather finally insisted that she go to the hospital. Fortunately, after Grandpa drove her to there, she was quickly diagnosed and taken in for surgery. They put in a stint in about half an hour (I think) and then placed her in ICU for monitoring.
Yesterday (Thursday), they finally found a free (non-ICU) room for her, and they're keeping her until they feel confident that her heartbeat is properly regulated. I have no idea how long that'll take, but we hope it won't be too many more days, because she's ready to go home! (g)
It's strange how the things you "always hear" often hold true. (Well, not so strange, maybe. That they're true is why you always hear them!) A tornado coming at you in the middle of the night really does sound like a freight train, apparently. Time actually does seem to slow down while you're taking a tumble. And when you first hear that someone you love has been taken to the hospital for a heart attack, it takes a minute or two for the news to sink in. You need time to process it-- and only then do you begin to realize what it means-- and what it could mean.
In this case, we were blessed-- or lucky-- or both. From what I understand, Granny's doctor has classified the heart attack as mild. It appears that no lasting damage was done. There may be more medications in her future-- cholesterol-lowering drugs, maybe even something to help regulate heart rhythm-- but she should be able to go back to her normal way of life and continue to do the things she enjoys. To say that we are all so thankful for that is obvious, but I'm writing it anyway. ;o)
Yesterday (Thursday), they finally found a free (non-ICU) room for her, and they're keeping her until they feel confident that her heartbeat is properly regulated. I have no idea how long that'll take, but we hope it won't be too many more days, because she's ready to go home! (g)
It's strange how the things you "always hear" often hold true. (Well, not so strange, maybe. That they're true is why you always hear them!) A tornado coming at you in the middle of the night really does sound like a freight train, apparently. Time actually does seem to slow down while you're taking a tumble. And when you first hear that someone you love has been taken to the hospital for a heart attack, it takes a minute or two for the news to sink in. You need time to process it-- and only then do you begin to realize what it means-- and what it could mean.
In this case, we were blessed-- or lucky-- or both. From what I understand, Granny's doctor has classified the heart attack as mild. It appears that no lasting damage was done. There may be more medications in her future-- cholesterol-lowering drugs, maybe even something to help regulate heart rhythm-- but she should be able to go back to her normal way of life and continue to do the things she enjoys. To say that we are all so thankful for that is obvious, but I'm writing it anyway. ;o)
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
It's Tidbits or Nothing, I'm Afraid.
So tidbits it is!
(Glancing over my list of topics, I see that they tend toward the negative. Sorry about that. I'll save the non-negative for last, and you can just skip ahead, if you like.)
(Glancing over my list of topics, I see that they tend toward the negative. Sorry about that. I'll save the non-negative for last, and you can just skip ahead, if you like.)
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Boring details about jaw pain & sniffles to follow.
You may want to skip down one section...
You try not to complain too much about little things (Hey, who's that I hear stifling a snicker?!), because you know there are people who have real, serious problems, and sooner or later you'll likely experience some of them, too, but lately if it's not one (little) thing, it's another. Just as the pain in my right jaw/neck was finally fading away (but not quite all gone), I was hit by a sudden bout of very distracting sneezing and sniffling, Saturday night. That night was the worst of it, but I'm still a little more tickle-nosed/sneezy than normal. It doesn't seem to be a cold-- no sore throat, coughing, or fever. Every now and then, for the past couple of years, at least, I've had these "suddenly sneezy" experiences, which usually last only a day or two. I've sometimes wondered if I'm developing allergies. I never suffered from them as a child (as far as I can recall), but I think I've read that it's possible to develop them at any time. (Joy.)
P.S. I started this entry Monday, when the jaw pain was finally gone (after about a week). Tuesday morning, as I chewed my first spoonful of cereal, I heard that weird "crunch crunch crunch" sound in the right side of my jaw again-- the same thing I heard within a day or so of the onset of my last experience of jaw pain. (And it wasn't just the sound of the cereal crunching. (g)) I hope this isn't going to become a never-ending cycle of jaw weirdness, because it's really not much fun. And I'm not even one of those people who constantly chew gum! What am I supposed to do? Cut back on eating and talking? ;o) (I probably could cut back on some of the eating... But a healthier diet would likely involve even more chewing than I currently do. How many times is it that we're supposed to chew each mouthful? Twenty- or thirty-something times?)
...Well, that's enough health junk. You know how I hate medical/health junk. (Oh, you didn't? Well, now you do.)
You may want to skip down one section...
You try not to complain too much about little things (Hey, who's that I hear stifling a snicker?!), because you know there are people who have real, serious problems, and sooner or later you'll likely experience some of them, too, but lately if it's not one (little) thing, it's another. Just as the pain in my right jaw/neck was finally fading away (but not quite all gone), I was hit by a sudden bout of very distracting sneezing and sniffling, Saturday night. That night was the worst of it, but I'm still a little more tickle-nosed/sneezy than normal. It doesn't seem to be a cold-- no sore throat, coughing, or fever. Every now and then, for the past couple of years, at least, I've had these "suddenly sneezy" experiences, which usually last only a day or two. I've sometimes wondered if I'm developing allergies. I never suffered from them as a child (as far as I can recall), but I think I've read that it's possible to develop them at any time. (Joy.)
P.S. I started this entry Monday, when the jaw pain was finally gone (after about a week). Tuesday morning, as I chewed my first spoonful of cereal, I heard that weird "crunch crunch crunch" sound in the right side of my jaw again-- the same thing I heard within a day or so of the onset of my last experience of jaw pain. (And it wasn't just the sound of the cereal crunching. (g)) I hope this isn't going to become a never-ending cycle of jaw weirdness, because it's really not much fun. And I'm not even one of those people who constantly chew gum! What am I supposed to do? Cut back on eating and talking? ;o) (I probably could cut back on some of the eating... But a healthier diet would likely involve even more chewing than I currently do. How many times is it that we're supposed to chew each mouthful? Twenty- or thirty-something times?)
...Well, that's enough health junk. You know how I hate medical/health junk. (Oh, you didn't? Well, now you do.)
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We've been trying to get rid of something I grew up calling "sugar ants" (but which apparently are not sugar ants, since those don't live in the US). They've been in our kitchen for a long time, but until recently, they stayed in one spot away from the food. There weren't a lot of them, and they didn't appear to be hurting anything, so after "home remedy" solutions failed, I just threw up my hands and decided to learn to live with them. Recently, however, they showed up in our pantry, and that is not ok. Donald bought some bait poison, which we've been leaving out for several days. I can't tell whether or not it's working. Sometimes there are no ants in sight, but then (like last night, for instance) there are suddenly quite a few of them gathered around the "bait plates" again. I guess I'll keep replacing the bait and hope that it just takes a while to get them all.
Incidentally, it irritates me that (as I learned when researching ant deterrents online) so many people assume that if you have ants in the house, it's because you're living in a pig sty. I'll admit that I'm nowhere near the best housekeeper in the world, but it's impossible to live a meaningful life and keep the kitchen free of the minute amount of crumbs and food residue that it takes to keep a few ants alive. Even a dishwasher would be a big no-no unless you ran it immediately each time you dirtied a dish-- or thoroughly washed the dishes before leaving them on the rack (in which case why bother with the dishwasher at all?).
- - - - - - -Incidentally, it irritates me that (as I learned when researching ant deterrents online) so many people assume that if you have ants in the house, it's because you're living in a pig sty. I'll admit that I'm nowhere near the best housekeeper in the world, but it's impossible to live a meaningful life and keep the kitchen free of the minute amount of crumbs and food residue that it takes to keep a few ants alive. Even a dishwasher would be a big no-no unless you ran it immediately each time you dirtied a dish-- or thoroughly washed the dishes before leaving them on the rack (in which case why bother with the dishwasher at all?).
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The terrible news of that jet that "disappeared" over the Atlantic has reminded me of all the horrific things I've ever imagined about flying-- what those last few minutes would be like. I'm glad we have no plans to fly this summer. Not that it's any less safe this summer than it ever is, but... well, I never really want to fly. It's like taking a nasty-tasting medicine-- it has to be done, sometimes, but if it didn't, I'd happily spend the rest of my life on solid ground, where I belong.
Last night, I woke at three-something a.m. from an awful dream. Someone I loved had died. (Apparently I'm too superstitious to give names...) I've dreamed before that people I care about have died, but I can't recall dreaming that about this particular person, until last night. The strange part was that until I woke up, it wasn't completely devastating. We were sad (though I have no idea why it was happening, we had warning, even to the point of discussing cremation/burial options), but it was something we both simply accepted with unnatural calmness. It wasn't until I was awake that I felt myself on the verge of tears-- when logically I should've been reassured that it was only a nightmare.
Last night, I turned over, tried to shake off unreasonable anxiety, and was soon back in the world of dreams (this time something about video games, a tornado-- an especially popular item in my jukebox o' dreams-- and the cast of That 70s Show), but it's not always that easy. Somehow, things always seem at their worst when I wake at 3 in the morning. L.M. Montgomery (one of my favorite authors) tended to write about the horrors of lying awake at 3 a.m.-- and I've seen references to that hour from time to time, elsewhere. I'm not sure why, but when I wake up around 3 a.m., I rarely feel good about myself or life in general. Worries that are manageable at other hours seem to crowd around me, smothering and insurmountable. Falling back asleep can sometimes be difficult-- but once I do, I'm generally back to my usual self in the morning. I suspect that there is something to this business about 3 a.m. being a cursed hour-- much worse than mere midnight. Of course, the "curse" is probably linked to our physiology-- biochemical reactions or something equally scientifically mysterious-- and the fact that we aren't thinking very clearly when we wake at that hour.
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Last night, I woke at three-something a.m. from an awful dream. Someone I loved had died. (Apparently I'm too superstitious to give names...) I've dreamed before that people I care about have died, but I can't recall dreaming that about this particular person, until last night. The strange part was that until I woke up, it wasn't completely devastating. We were sad (though I have no idea why it was happening, we had warning, even to the point of discussing cremation/burial options), but it was something we both simply accepted with unnatural calmness. It wasn't until I was awake that I felt myself on the verge of tears-- when logically I should've been reassured that it was only a nightmare.
Last night, I turned over, tried to shake off unreasonable anxiety, and was soon back in the world of dreams (this time something about video games, a tornado-- an especially popular item in my jukebox o' dreams-- and the cast of That 70s Show), but it's not always that easy. Somehow, things always seem at their worst when I wake at 3 in the morning. L.M. Montgomery (one of my favorite authors) tended to write about the horrors of lying awake at 3 a.m.-- and I've seen references to that hour from time to time, elsewhere. I'm not sure why, but when I wake up around 3 a.m., I rarely feel good about myself or life in general. Worries that are manageable at other hours seem to crowd around me, smothering and insurmountable. Falling back asleep can sometimes be difficult-- but once I do, I'm generally back to my usual self in the morning. I suspect that there is something to this business about 3 a.m. being a cursed hour-- much worse than mere midnight. Of course, the "curse" is probably linked to our physiology-- biochemical reactions or something equally scientifically mysterious-- and the fact that we aren't thinking very clearly when we wake at that hour.
This weekend, Donald went up and replaced the shingles that were blown off our roof in March. We had been just keeping it patched with tar paper in anticipation of possibly having it professionally repaired, but after having it inspected and talking it over, Donald decided that he could replace the shingles himself.
It's good to have something a little more permanent than tar paper done, at least. Some of what the roofer we consulted with told us (suggesting that certain parts of the original job possibly hadn't been done properly) still makes me a little uneasy, but (rap wood again!) that roof saw us through Hurricane Ivan. Besides, even if we'd had a professional do it, we wouldn't have replaced the whole roof, and I know Donald put more care into the patch than the average roofer would have.
Here's to no more hurricanes or roof-damaging squalls for twenty years, at least! ;o)
It's good to have something a little more permanent than tar paper done, at least. Some of what the roofer we consulted with told us (suggesting that certain parts of the original job possibly hadn't been done properly) still makes me a little uneasy, but (rap wood again!) that roof saw us through Hurricane Ivan. Besides, even if we'd had a professional do it, we wouldn't have replaced the whole roof, and I know Donald put more care into the patch than the average roofer would have.
Here's to no more hurricanes or roof-damaging squalls for twenty years, at least! ;o)
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We taught Trixie a couple new tricks, a few days ago. She already knew "sit" and "down". (Well, in theory. Sometimes she still seems to be confused about why it's necessary to get into the "sit" position when she's already "down". I guess I can't blame her. It doesn't make much sense...) Next, we added "roll over" and "speak". I wondered, while teaching her to speak, whether we'd regret it. So far, she's been pretty good. Of course, she sometimes barks during "trick sessions" just on the off chance that we'll reward her, but I think that will decrease as she becomes better at differentiating between commands. Still, maybe her next trick will be learning how to use an "inside voice".
Let's close with this very no-frills video of Trixie demonstrating her tricks:
Let's close with this very no-frills video of Trixie demonstrating her tricks:
Trixie's Tricks from Michael Johansson on Vimeo.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Equal Health Care for All?
Maybe I am a mean, horrible person for writing this, but I'm doing it anyway.
I was reading comments on a blog-- one I've mentioned here before, which is written by someone who is half Swedish, half American, raised in the US, but now living in Sweden. He'd written about his recent experience with the Swedish health care system, and it generated a number of responses.
Now, normally, I wouldn't have much to say about health care in another country. Leave it to those citizens to decide how they want things to be run. However, these days, with our own system in such a mess and the very real threat of having it changed to something that will probably be even messier, I find this subject has become a sore spot for me. Some want us to believe that people in Canada-- Sweden-- wherever-- have it made, as far as health care is concerned. Based on what I've heard and read, I can't agree.
Then I read this particular comment on the blog. Here's an excerpt:
Is that such a positive thing, that everyone gets (supposedly) the same care-- even if that means many are getting care of inferior quality to what they'd get in our current system?
I mean, sure, if I could wave my magic wand (what? don't you have one, too?) and make it so that everyone everywhere would receive top-notch medical care, that would be wonderful. But that's not how it works.
If everyone gets the same level of medical care, that implies taking an average of their previous care. Yes, some people's care will improve, but many will receive less efficient or effective care than if they were to just pay their own way. Instead of paying ridiculous fees for insurance, they're forced to pay for their health care through ridiculously increased taxes. What they get is probably worse medical care than if they had just paid their own way. So where does the rest of the money go? (Probably partly just sucked down the drain of government waste! As for the rest:) To help pay for the health care of the "less fortunate". Why are some people entitled to the money of others? (Because health care, like any service, is money.)
Gosh, this life thing is complicated! It'd be so much easier if people would get over this insidious sense of entitlement. (Fat chance!) Yes, there are some people who truly need help, and it is the responsibility of any civilized people to help provide for their needy. But I, for one, don't like it when the government tries to force my hand.
Is it "fair", if someone works hard to earn a higher standard of living, that he shouldn't be able to buy better care than someone who does the bare minimum?
Consider: You've worked hard and saved your pennies your whole life. You've managed to accumulate a little money. You won't be buying a mansion or hiring a chef to prepare your meals, but you've earned some financial security. Now, you're getting older, and the time comes that you decide you need some type of elective surgery. It would vastly improve the quality of your life-- maybe even prolong your life, as it would help you stay physically and mentally active-- but it is elective. Now that we've put the government firmly in control of health care, it's up to them to decide who gets surgeries and when. Because people believe that health care is now free (never mind the fact that someone's paying for it), the demand for all types of medical care has sky-rocketed. People who would've just made do, before, are now quick to say, "Heck yeah! Sign me up for this, and that, and that, too!" This means longer lines. It also means that there are government workers reviewing each case to decide if a procedure is warranted. (The doctors and surgeons can only do so much every day, after all, and there may be less incentive for people to become doctors, working under these new guidelines and conditions.) The health care doler-outer looks at you, an aging person, and decides that it'd be a better investment to let someone younger have the surgery, instead. You'll probably only live another 10-20 years, and that 40-year-old guy whose file is right below yours in the stack might have 30-40 years left in him. Tough luck! Even though you have the money to pay for the procedure directly out of pocket-- on top of all the taxes you've paid across the years-- you are denied. (Well, that's one prediction I've heard, and I doesn't seem too far-fetched, if you ask me. . .)
*sigh* Why can't people see the simplest things? If you take away most of the incentives of hard work, there's no reason for anyone to bother putting in the extra effort that creates success and wealth.
I was reading comments on a blog-- one I've mentioned here before, which is written by someone who is half Swedish, half American, raised in the US, but now living in Sweden. He'd written about his recent experience with the Swedish health care system, and it generated a number of responses.
Now, normally, I wouldn't have much to say about health care in another country. Leave it to those citizens to decide how they want things to be run. However, these days, with our own system in such a mess and the very real threat of having it changed to something that will probably be even messier, I find this subject has become a sore spot for me. Some want us to believe that people in Canada-- Sweden-- wherever-- have it made, as far as health care is concerned. Based on what I've heard and read, I can't agree.
Then I read this particular comment on the blog. Here's an excerpt:
There are definitely positive things to say about the Swedish health care system, as well, though. One being the fact that you don't need to have an expensive health insurance to get good health care, meaning that people from all social classes are entitled to the same health care.(This is the part where some of you may hate me forever. (g))
If I was more opposed to the Swedish health care than I already am and had a proneness to being sarcastic I would probably describe the Swedish health care with the following sentence: "The waiting lines may be long but at least we're all standing in the same line!"
Sadly enough, though, I guess that's what you get when you have equal health care for everybody.
Is that such a positive thing, that everyone gets (supposedly) the same care-- even if that means many are getting care of inferior quality to what they'd get in our current system?
I mean, sure, if I could wave my magic wand (what? don't you have one, too?) and make it so that everyone everywhere would receive top-notch medical care, that would be wonderful. But that's not how it works.
If everyone gets the same level of medical care, that implies taking an average of their previous care. Yes, some people's care will improve, but many will receive less efficient or effective care than if they were to just pay their own way. Instead of paying ridiculous fees for insurance, they're forced to pay for their health care through ridiculously increased taxes. What they get is probably worse medical care than if they had just paid their own way. So where does the rest of the money go? (Probably partly just sucked down the drain of government waste! As for the rest:) To help pay for the health care of the "less fortunate". Why are some people entitled to the money of others? (Because health care, like any service, is money.)
Gosh, this life thing is complicated! It'd be so much easier if people would get over this insidious sense of entitlement. (Fat chance!) Yes, there are some people who truly need help, and it is the responsibility of any civilized people to help provide for their needy. But I, for one, don't like it when the government tries to force my hand.
Is it "fair", if someone works hard to earn a higher standard of living, that he shouldn't be able to buy better care than someone who does the bare minimum?
Consider: You've worked hard and saved your pennies your whole life. You've managed to accumulate a little money. You won't be buying a mansion or hiring a chef to prepare your meals, but you've earned some financial security. Now, you're getting older, and the time comes that you decide you need some type of elective surgery. It would vastly improve the quality of your life-- maybe even prolong your life, as it would help you stay physically and mentally active-- but it is elective. Now that we've put the government firmly in control of health care, it's up to them to decide who gets surgeries and when. Because people believe that health care is now free (never mind the fact that someone's paying for it), the demand for all types of medical care has sky-rocketed. People who would've just made do, before, are now quick to say, "Heck yeah! Sign me up for this, and that, and that, too!" This means longer lines. It also means that there are government workers reviewing each case to decide if a procedure is warranted. (The doctors and surgeons can only do so much every day, after all, and there may be less incentive for people to become doctors, working under these new guidelines and conditions.) The health care doler-outer looks at you, an aging person, and decides that it'd be a better investment to let someone younger have the surgery, instead. You'll probably only live another 10-20 years, and that 40-year-old guy whose file is right below yours in the stack might have 30-40 years left in him. Tough luck! Even though you have the money to pay for the procedure directly out of pocket-- on top of all the taxes you've paid across the years-- you are denied. (Well, that's one prediction I've heard, and I doesn't seem too far-fetched, if you ask me. . .)
*sigh* Why can't people see the simplest things? If you take away most of the incentives of hard work, there's no reason for anyone to bother putting in the extra effort that creates success and wealth.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Christmas Recap
We had a very nice Christmas again, this year. The weather did turn out to be fairly gross-- off-and-on rain, pervasive dampness, and unseasonable warmth-- and it's still muggy out there. Of course, it could've been worse, and since our festivities mostly took place indoors, we hardly had to think about the weather.
We got to see family on Christmas Eve (father's side of the family, and later a cozy gathering of just my parents, Kimberly, Carrie & Victor, and ourselves) and on Christmas Day (mother's side of the family). I didn't get everything done that I'd wanted to-- I probably ought to add "as usual" here-- but I got enough done, I guess, and now I can start working on the ideas I didn't get to so that I have things ready when birthdays (or next Christmas) roll around again.
Donald and I shot some video-- which I've yet to even load onto the computer-- so maybe there'll be some short clips, later on. We also have yet to give Molly and Trixie their gifts-- another event to video. ;o)
Donald put in some hours working from home on Wednesday morning and Friday, but we still managed to squeeze some fun in there-- and he got to talk to his brother and mother yesterday. Now we're probably going to spend the weekend being lazy and doing just whatever we please. (So. . . as usual, mostly, though perhaps with a little more luxuriance-- finally able to "do nothing" without a mile-long holiday-themed to-do list in the back of my mind.) I've done precious little housework this whole week, and frankly, I don't intend to start until Monday (except for what absolutely must be done).
Off to luxuriate, then! ;o) (While trying to ignore the pain I've had in the right side of my neck for a few days. And, which is much more difficult to do, trying to believe-- not just repeat to myself, but persistently believe-- that it's just an irritating pain and not a sign of something serious. Stupid hypochondria!)
We got to see family on Christmas Eve (father's side of the family, and later a cozy gathering of just my parents, Kimberly, Carrie & Victor, and ourselves) and on Christmas Day (mother's side of the family). I didn't get everything done that I'd wanted to-- I probably ought to add "as usual" here-- but I got enough done, I guess, and now I can start working on the ideas I didn't get to so that I have things ready when birthdays (or next Christmas) roll around again.
Donald and I shot some video-- which I've yet to even load onto the computer-- so maybe there'll be some short clips, later on. We also have yet to give Molly and Trixie their gifts-- another event to video. ;o)
Donald put in some hours working from home on Wednesday morning and Friday, but we still managed to squeeze some fun in there-- and he got to talk to his brother and mother yesterday. Now we're probably going to spend the weekend being lazy and doing just whatever we please. (So. . . as usual, mostly, though perhaps with a little more luxuriance-- finally able to "do nothing" without a mile-long holiday-themed to-do list in the back of my mind.) I've done precious little housework this whole week, and frankly, I don't intend to start until Monday (except for what absolutely must be done).
Off to luxuriate, then! ;o) (While trying to ignore the pain I've had in the right side of my neck for a few days. And, which is much more difficult to do, trying to believe-- not just repeat to myself, but persistently believe-- that it's just an irritating pain and not a sign of something serious. Stupid hypochondria!)
Saturday, November 29, 2008
This Holiday Weekend
It's hard for me to remember, sometimes, that this isn't a holiday week for some readers.
Here's what we've been up to:
Wednesday was Donald's 36th birthday. It was a regular workday, but we still managed to find some time in the morning and evening for fun, and he got to talk to both his parents and his brother on the computer. (If you'd like to talk to people for free over the Internet, do check out Skype. The sound quality is impressive-- better than through a telephone, I think.)
Wednesday afternoon, my parents were out in the clearing burning a pile of brush while Grandpa L. continued discing (disking?) nearby. We went out and spoke with them for a while (and helped gather a few more things to throw on the fire). It looks like they're going to move forward with their house plans, so there should be some interesting changes in the local landscape, soon.
Thursday was (of course) Thanksgiving, which we spent with my father's side of the family. All the aunts, uncles and cousins were in attendance, including those who live in Georgia. They brought their bulldog ("Gertie", if I'm spelling it correctly) down with them, and she provided the entertainment once the kids (my two young cousins) had gone to visit their other grandmother.
Friday, we did our Day-After-Thanksgiving shopping from home, which in some ways has been nice, but in other ways, it's been less than ideal. Also, though it seems like it ought to be better, not having to get up early, stand in long lines, deal with traffic and possibly be jostled by complete strangers, that's all part of the experience, and without it things just don't feel as much like the kick-off of the holiday season.
The day after Thanksgiving is the traditional day for many (most?) people in the U.S. to put up/decorate the Christmas tree, but as I wrote in the previous entry, I'm thinking of putting that off for another day or two. No sense doing it when I'm not in the mood to enjoy it, right?
In Donald's family, as in most Swedish families, they don't decorate the tree until Christmas Eve morning, but they then leave it there until January 13th. (I think. . .) That's definitely a difference in our traditions! I think Mom was always eager to get the Christmas tree down soon after Christmas day. . .
This afternoon, we went to Aunt Debbie and Uncle Jim's Iron Bowl party. While most of the others watched the game, Carrie, Kimberly, Donald and I played card games. It was nice to see everyone, and fortunately, the "right" team won, so everyone who actually cared about it was happy and easier to live with than if they'd lost. ;o)
The downside: There was a group photo, and when I saw it later that night (at home), I was less than pleased with my part of it. Gross. I don't really look like that, do I? (Please lie to me, if necessary. Otherwise, I may well cry.) Seriously, I don't look that bad in the mirror. . . I know that if I lose some weight I'll be somewhat more photogenic, but in the meantime, I'd much rather be behind the camera than in front of it.
Okay. I know I'm not completely unattractive. There are probably even people who'd happily trade bodies/general physical condition with me. That said, I'm still feeling fairly depressed about this, and I'm not looking forward to being forced into family photos this Christmas. I certainly won't be printing them up for display in my own house.
Anyway. Putting vanity aside.
All in all, a nice holiday weekend, despite unflattering photos and rain. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, even if I do look chubby in photographs. I should be thankful to live in such a land of plenty that chubbiness is the problem instead of not having enough to eat-- and I am thankful for that, among so many, many other things. It's good to be reminded to take the time to remember all those blessings. . .
Here's what we've been up to:
Wednesday was Donald's 36th birthday. It was a regular workday, but we still managed to find some time in the morning and evening for fun, and he got to talk to both his parents and his brother on the computer. (If you'd like to talk to people for free over the Internet, do check out Skype. The sound quality is impressive-- better than through a telephone, I think.)
Wednesday afternoon, my parents were out in the clearing burning a pile of brush while Grandpa L. continued discing (disking?) nearby. We went out and spoke with them for a while (and helped gather a few more things to throw on the fire). It looks like they're going to move forward with their house plans, so there should be some interesting changes in the local landscape, soon.
Thursday was (of course) Thanksgiving, which we spent with my father's side of the family. All the aunts, uncles and cousins were in attendance, including those who live in Georgia. They brought their bulldog ("Gertie", if I'm spelling it correctly) down with them, and she provided the entertainment once the kids (my two young cousins) had gone to visit their other grandmother.
Friday, we did our Day-After-Thanksgiving shopping from home, which in some ways has been nice, but in other ways, it's been less than ideal. Also, though it seems like it ought to be better, not having to get up early, stand in long lines, deal with traffic and possibly be jostled by complete strangers, that's all part of the experience, and without it things just don't feel as much like the kick-off of the holiday season.
The day after Thanksgiving is the traditional day for many (most?) people in the U.S. to put up/decorate the Christmas tree, but as I wrote in the previous entry, I'm thinking of putting that off for another day or two. No sense doing it when I'm not in the mood to enjoy it, right?
In Donald's family, as in most Swedish families, they don't decorate the tree until Christmas Eve morning, but they then leave it there until January 13th. (I think. . .) That's definitely a difference in our traditions! I think Mom was always eager to get the Christmas tree down soon after Christmas day. . .
This afternoon, we went to Aunt Debbie and Uncle Jim's Iron Bowl party. While most of the others watched the game, Carrie, Kimberly, Donald and I played card games. It was nice to see everyone, and fortunately, the "right" team won, so everyone who actually cared about it was happy and easier to live with than if they'd lost. ;o)
The downside: There was a group photo, and when I saw it later that night (at home), I was less than pleased with my part of it. Gross. I don't really look like that, do I? (Please lie to me, if necessary. Otherwise, I may well cry.) Seriously, I don't look that bad in the mirror. . . I know that if I lose some weight I'll be somewhat more photogenic, but in the meantime, I'd much rather be behind the camera than in front of it.
Okay. I know I'm not completely unattractive. There are probably even people who'd happily trade bodies/general physical condition with me. That said, I'm still feeling fairly depressed about this, and I'm not looking forward to being forced into family photos this Christmas. I certainly won't be printing them up for display in my own house.
Anyway. Putting vanity aside.
All in all, a nice holiday weekend, despite unflattering photos and rain. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, even if I do look chubby in photographs. I should be thankful to live in such a land of plenty that chubbiness is the problem instead of not having enough to eat-- and I am thankful for that, among so many, many other things. It's good to be reminded to take the time to remember all those blessings. . .
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Wanted: Fat Pants
Pants that fit me last year no longer want to button comfortably (or, in some cases, at all). I knew I wasn't exactly losing weight, these past several months, but neither did I think I was (still) gaining it. We have a bathroom scale, of course, but not being a fitness-geek, I never step near the darn thing. (Well, would you, if it kept insisting you were getting pudgy?!) I prefer to ignore concrete numbers whenever possible, but now my own once-beloved pants are turning on me.
(sigh) This means I have to figure out some way of losing weight-- meaning some way that I can actually stick with long enough to see results. We're coming up on what is universally acknowledged as the peak seasons for weight-gain (festive meals, desserts galore, cold-weather cravings for all sorts of goodies-- and that holiday feeling that you really deserve to indulge), but if I ever want to wear half my wardrobe again, it has to be done.
Why, oh why can't typing/mousing, TV-remote-pushing, and page-turning be aerobic exercise?! Those are the types of things I want to do in my free time-- not sitting for hours on the bike or (shudder) running. Cruel world!
The most irritating thing? Knowing that no matter what I do, I'm not going to be able to slim down noticeably in time for all those holiday photos. Nope. The 2008 "out of shape" me will be captured forever in untold numbers of digital photographs. Oh well.
(Hey, you family photographers out there? If you could, whenever we get ready to take those pictures, please tell me how to pose so that I at least don't appear to have too much of a double chin. You know, "lower your chin a little" or "angle yourself more to the right" or "wrap this scarf around your neck". ;o) Please?)
If When If -- Ok, let's be optimistic here!-- WHEN I lose enough weight, I'm going to take a gazillion photos of myself to look at and show off when I'm old(er) and gray(er) and have earned the right to not care so much if I put on a little extra weight.
(sigh) This means I have to figure out some way of losing weight-- meaning some way that I can actually stick with long enough to see results. We're coming up on what is universally acknowledged as the peak seasons for weight-gain (festive meals, desserts galore, cold-weather cravings for all sorts of goodies-- and that holiday feeling that you really deserve to indulge), but if I ever want to wear half my wardrobe again, it has to be done.
Why, oh why can't typing/mousing, TV-remote-pushing, and page-turning be aerobic exercise?! Those are the types of things I want to do in my free time-- not sitting for hours on the bike or (shudder) running. Cruel world!
The most irritating thing? Knowing that no matter what I do, I'm not going to be able to slim down noticeably in time for all those holiday photos. Nope. The 2008 "out of shape" me will be captured forever in untold numbers of digital photographs. Oh well.
(Hey, you family photographers out there? If you could, whenever we get ready to take those pictures, please tell me how to pose so that I at least don't appear to have too much of a double chin. You know, "lower your chin a little" or "angle yourself more to the right" or "wrap this scarf around your neck". ;o) Please?)
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