A Day Of Tears

I woke up this morning feeling something was different.  Couldn't put my finger on it right away, but I was weepy from the moment I stepped out of bed.  What was going on?

I barely made it through breakfast, watching a short documentary on American pilots who fought for Israel in 1948 and just started bawling.  I mean, really, crying over American pilots?

When I got on the road to go to work, I realized it was Martin Luther King's birthday, a federal holiday that leaves the freeways wide open and a pleasure to traverse.  It's also the day my mother died, 9 years ago.  When I realized this, I let loose.

I know it sounds like I don't care, but when a Jew dies, it's the Jewish date that we remember and memorialize.  My mother passed away on the 25 of Teves, which fell out on the 7th of January this year and on MLK's birthday 9 years ago.  Each year it falls out on a different day.

Needless to say, I spent the rest of the day dashing back to my office to cry, and couldn't even summon up the strength to call my sister to see how she was doing.  No doubt it hit her hard as well.

I know there are a lot of bad things going on in the world right now, but 9 years is a long time to be without your mother.  And it makes me very sad.

Worse Than Childbirth

After it was all over, I thought to myself: This is what you get for neglecting your teeth.  Sheer, unmitigating terror.

Let me back up.  It's been a year since I knew that I needed gum surgery, but always had an excuse not to do it.  Writing my thesis.  Involved in an internship.  You know, stuff.  So when I finally passed the Registered Dietitian's exam and got a job, I ran out of excuses.  Time to get that darn surgery out of the way and get on the road to a better life with better teeth.  And gums.

But it's really not that easy when you have a blood disease called polycythemia vera and you take two baby aspirin a day because you produce too many red blood cells and platelets.  It's a genetic mutation, faced by a tiny percentage of the population who hit the 50 year old wall.  It other words, a heavy bummer.

Besides the occasional optical migraines, I fare pretty well, taking two baby aspirin a day and trying to exercise every morning.  But neither the dentist nor I thought twice about the baby aspirin, or the implications of my disorder when he went about performing surgery on the right side of my mouth on Monday.

Afterwards, I was a bloody mess, which was to be expected.  What was not expected was that the blood did not stop flowing.  I thought I was going to need a transfusion, pretty ironic for someone who can't donate blood.  I wrote my hematologist in a panic yesterday and told him what happened.  Equally panicked, he called and told me to get into his office ASAP (well, he didn't order me quite like that. He's really sweet and soft spoken - unlike me).  He had me intravenously pumped full of coagulant, and then I purchased another massive bottle of the same ($575 - suspiciously not covered by insurance) which I am to take for the next 7 days.

Listen, it was worth every penny.  Not to be bleeding and be able to get to work, where I can make that kinda of money in a few days, was worth it.  But the problem is, I need to do the left side of my mouth in a few weeks.  I'm scared.

My hematologist and I are working out a strategy to prevent this from happening again (guess who isn't eating baby aspirin for a while?).  Still, I'm hard pressed to have this happen again even if I bleed just a little. Maybe I'll feel different when my mouth heals and I can eat hard food again.  Like Jelly Bellies.

Just a day in my life.  Oy vey to the 10th power!

I'm An Addict

I don't know how to say this, but I'm hooked on a book on tape.  Well, it's not really on tape, it's on a CDs. Thirteen of them.  Oy vey, what was I thinking?

It's called "All Other Nights," and it's set in the Civil War.  It's the story of a Yankee spy, a young Jewish man, who gets involved, among other things, in busting up a Rebel spy ring involving a Southern Jewish family in which he marries one of the four sisters.

I'm addicted to the story.  I listen to it in the car, and sometimes, when I get to where I'm going and it's right in the middle of a really exciting part, I sit in my car and continue to listen.  Like I have all the time in the world to sit around and listen to a story?

I'm up to CD number 10.  I've been at this story for over a week now (I drive about an hour a day to work and back, and then usually go shopping afterwards), and to tell the truth, I love the concept of listening to a narrator (it's amazing - this guy plays about 10 different parts!), but 13 CDs?  Really?  It's kinda taking too long.

Not that I'm proud of myself, but I actually checked out the book so I could read the end.  Seriously, I may not get to the last CD for another few days.  I just had to know if the hero comes out alright.  And if you want to know if he does, then continue reading.  Otherwise, it'a fun story .  Check it out!

*(He does!)

Checking In

I just got off the phone with my son in Australia - actually, I just got off the computer phone (Skype) with my son in Australia.  He sure looks cute on my little screen.  Cute, happy, content.  I hope that means he won't want to stay in that country.

I know it's wrong, but every time I talk to him I remind him that he lives here, in America, the greatest country on earth.  He laughs, figures I'm joking, and then goes on to say that he knows he coming home in a year.  But I mean it.  Australia is too far away for one of my children to live, even if I did just figure out how to spell the name right.

Funny, I don't feel that way about Israel.  If any of my children were to let me know tonight that they were moving to Israel (except my 11 year old daughter), I'd be thrilled.  There's something about Australia that doesn't sit right with me.  I mean, the people are nice enough, it's just something about that country that puts me off.

Anyway, it's my problem.  Not my cute, happy, content son.  And I'm gonna have to deal with it.  And I have just under a year to do just that.

Making Due With What You Have

This is a great video - shows how when life hands you garbage, you make that garbage amazing.  Very uplifting and all for a great cause.  Enjoy

Fried Foods and Other Thoughts

It's Chanukah time, a happy time, when we tend to eat either a lot of food, or the wrong food, or both.  Count me in.

At my advanced age (5 decades and counting), I realize I really have to watch what I eat, take care to count calories, and drink plenty of water.  Well, I ate two jelly filled donuts yesterday and I'm crying for more!

It's ironic that I tell my patients to stay away from fried foods, and I even tell myself that as well.  But I have no idea just how many latkes I ate Monday night.  I know it was more than 10, including the ones that grew cold because we had to take a break from eating.

It's gonna take me a while to get back on track.  Start eating healthy, raw vegetables, smaller portions.  I guess it helps me relate to the people I counsel - it makes their struggle more real.  Not that it matters, but many of my patients are homeless, and fast food keeps them alive.  I understand that, and ask them to eat less of it.

Because fried foods taste so good, I know they can't give it up.  Because I can't give it up.  Oh, what the heck.  Like I tell them, do the best you can.  Everyday.  Amen.

Just Some Thoughts

As I've mentioned before, at first, I was a bit afraid of working in a psychiatric hospital.  I've seen the patients get unhinged, seen them given "cocktails" to calm them down, and found myself actually asked to move out of the way of staff to get to patients who were acting up.

But my heart goes out to one patient in particular, who I obviously cannot name.  I will say that he is young, and has become mentally disabled through a horrendous car accident that claimed the life of his mother.  The young man cannot stand still, and constantly moves about the facility.  But there is such a sweetness to him, and gentleness, and I have had occasion to speak to him since he is not eating well and is losing weight.

At first, he wouldn't take the Ensure supplements, but I talked him into it.  He's asked for burritos, and in turn I've asked the kitchen staff to make it for him.  So today, after I spoke to him, he reached out and shook my hand.  When I went to leave, he came up to me and shook my hand again.  I wanted to cry.

Usually I write my posts when I'm happy, or excited, or even outraged.  But it's hard for me to write when I'm sad.  This young man, he makes me sad.  But the problem is me, because there's nothing he can do for himself.  I have to smile more, laugh more, be kinder.  In fact, I'll start right now.  As Mr. Rogers used to say, "won't you join me?"