PEACE OUT!!

PEACE OUT

As someone who’s often made her living entertaining others, this isolationism has been torturous. Yesterday, while standing outside Trader Joe’s in a long line, loud music began pumping in the parking lot. Prince’s, “When Doves Cry” came on and I instinctively began to dance. Now, this is not unusual behavior for me but simply how I’m wired. Even in the dentist’s chair if a song with a good beat comes on, I cannot sit still. (I imagine it’s why I was always on a first name basis with my school principals).

 As I grooved to the music, I became aware that both the person in front of and behind me were visibly wincing. Although they were each six feet away, they acted as though I might somehow splash the virus on them with my outstretched arms. So, I abruptly stopped. Moments later, a van unloaded several people in the parking lot. They looked around at all of us as if trying to decide what was going on. “Don’t worry,” I called out. “You’re in the right place. This IS the audition line for the Rockettes!” Finally. . . laughter.

 Ours is an unprecedented time. We haven’t quite figured out how to handle this invisible terror that blows through our streets. We are told to stay home and then bombarded on the TV by constantly updated death statistics. How healthy is that? Where are the Lassie re-runs? As I walk in my neighborhood now, other walkers actually cross the street to avoid coming too close to me. If I smile and wave, some respond but a few actually put their heads down and seem to hold their breath.

 I have immense empathy for the young people among us who must shut down their energetic, vibrant lives. At their age, I’d likely be building a backyard trapeze and teaching myself to juggle. Yes, this is a tragic pandemic but we must not lose our joy! Let’s help each other get more creative in finding it and count our blessings.

 Here are some of mine:

 1.  My hearing has improved! I can actually hear a sneeze or cough from about 20 yards away.

2.  My house sparkles—even under the washer & dryer.

3.  If I nap, I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.

In the above picture, please note that I have turned my back to you. This is for your protection.

 

SIGNS I’VE TAKEN TOO MANY PAIN MEDS

 

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Recently, I had my 2nd knee replaced. Considering I’d done this once before, I thought I knew what to expect. Nope.

  1. The first night in the hospital, I’m given a dinner menu. I’m surprised to even have an appetite and attribute my complete lack of pain to a masterful anesthesiologist. Since I don’t have my glasses, I peruse the colorful pictures with deep intent. I finally settle on a lovely, triangular concoction with a fan of white at the plates’ edge. I pick up the phone, dial room service and calmly ask for, “One, white swan, please.” She asks me to repeat myself. “One, white swan,” I repeat louder, thinking she must be deaf. “Um what number might that be?” she asks sweetly. Turns out it was a club sandwich with a white, folded napkin perched next to it.
  2. The next morning I decide to call a friend. I pick up the TV remote, press the center button and patiently wait for a dial tone, which never comes. Instead, the TV magically goes on! Confused, I push the button again and hold it closer to my ear. The TV goes off and still no dial tone! It slowly dawns on me that perhaps I should use an actual phone.
  3. An hour later, my nurse informs me that they, “need my bed and (I’m) well enough to go home.”   “I’m not budging,”  I say. Several minutes later, another enters and says, “It is hospital policy to discharge a patient if the doctor says it’s OK.” (That’s what I get for pretending to feel better than I do.) “No, I am staying right here,” I say firmly. Finally, a third person enters. Before he can speak, I burst into tears and scream, “I am NOT LEAVING THIS BED!   IF YOU DARE SEND ONE, MORE PERSON IN HERE, I AM CALLING THE NEWSPAPER TO TELL THEM YOU’RE THROWING AN OLD LADY OUT OF THE HOSPITAL LESS THAN 24 HOURS AFTER MAJOR SURGERY!”   “Um, I’m just here to get your vitals,” he says meekly.
  4. Midway through my first week home, I develop debilitating nerve pain so intense it leaves me screaming, sweating and breathless. I up my meds. I am now binge watching a bizarrely, imbecilic TV show, which I find utterly compelling.
  5. At 2 AM, I actually thank God for, “not having a third knee because I could never go through this again.” Then it occurs to me that no one has a third knee.

I toss my meds.

P. S. Above is my Physical Terrorist. There is a reason he has a black eye.

 

HAPPY NEW DAY!!

headphones

I have never made a New Year’s resolution. Not one. Not ever. It just feels stupid. Even as a kid I thought, ‘Why would I suddenly decide to do something for a whole year that I should probably be doing every day anyway?’ As the years passed and I watched countless friends give up on their own ‘resolutions,’ my resolve grew even stronger: “Do today what I should be doing every day. Don’t wait for January 1st!”

So, here are my daily resolutions. Maybe they will resonate with you. One thing I can promise is that if you do a little bit of the right thing every day it will add up by next December 31st.

  1.  Move. Work out, swim, walk, stand on your head or do whatever inspires you to motion. When you start the day active the rest of your hours are likely to be more productive. Oh, and it also induces better mood, deeper sleep, lowers blood pressure and reduces anxiety.
  2. Savor what goes into your mouth. Think big, green salads, vegetables, whole grains, lean meats and the panoply of delights the earth gives us. I like to think, ‘colors of the rainbow,’ when I prepare a meal. Then if you go a little haywire later, at least you already have something healthy under your belt.
  3. Answer all emails and text messages as you get them. When you do, people learn that they can count on you. Pay bills as they come in. There is no greater feeling than having nothing hanging over my head—unless it’s mistletoe.
  4. Learn something new. Today I read that octopuses can tell humans apart even when they’re dressed the same!
  5. Meet someone new or make someone smile. Often, these two go hand in hand like with the fellow pictured above. We were waiting in line at the market, so I handed him my headphones and said, “I dare you to listen to this and NOT dance.”

Life is short. Some of us won’t even have the whole of 2020 but we do have today. It says in Proverbs to, “make hay while the sun is shining.” I would add, make it even when it isn’t shining.  So with that in mind, I wish all of my curious, insightful readers on six continents not only a joyous New Year but also a spectacular New Day!

IT’S A NO BRAINER

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Almost two-thirds of the 6 million American’s with Alzheimer’s are women. It was once thought that our longevity was the reason we developed Alzheimer’s more often than men. That belief is now being challenged by scientists who say that we are genetically more disposed to dementias because our brains have more “bridging regions.” Makes sense.  We’re connectors.  However, this puts us at greater risk for the widespread plaques and tangles of amyloid beta, which cause Alzheimer’s.

Brain difference is not the only thing increasing our risk. Hormone replacement therapy may also be adding a new set of dangers.  Several of my girlfriends swear by it.  However, there is growing evidence that it may contribute to dementia and increase our propensity for other female cancers.

What to do?

1. Eat LOTS of fruits and vegetables. According to a study in Sweden, those who eat five servings of fruits and vegetables daily live longer than those who don’t.

2.  Lessen exposure to wireless radiation. Even the FCC suggests putting calls on speakerphone to increase the distance between your phone and your head.

3.  Avoid fried foods. A 24-year study at the University of Iowa shows that women, ages 50- to 65-years have a higher chance of dying from stroke and heart problems if they do.

4.  Eat more fish or take omega-3 fatty acid supplements, especially if your triglyceride levels are high or you suffer from depression or osteoporosis. During a 16-year study, involving more than 180,000 women, researchers found that those who ate fish at least three times a week or took supplements were 35 percent less likely to die of cognitive decline and heart problems.

5.  Don’t eat late at night. The body’s circadian rhythms are coordinated in the hypothalamus, which is the mother lode of stem cells that control how fast we age. According to UCLA researchers, eating late at night also disrupts the daily rhythm of the hippocampus – the brain’s memory center.

6.  Exercise daily! This keeps harmful immune cells out of your brain and diminishes the presence of inflammatory microglia in your hypothalamus. Your body knows— and it shows– if you don’t.

7.  Eat dark chocolate!!! Researchers at Loma Linda University say that consuming chocolate high in cacao (over 70%) causes an increase in the frequency of gamma waves. These reduce stress, improve mood, enhance neuroplasticity and improve cerebral blood flow.  My new motto?  “A square a day keeps dementia away.”  It’s a no brainer.

 

 

 

SHAKE IT UP!

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 Put down your Sudoku pencils! Science says that if we really want to stay sharp, we need to shake things up and think out of the box. In a recent study researchers concluded that standardized games are not particularly effective in improving brain performance. Experts now recommend that we use real-world activities instead. “Almost any silly suggestion can work,” says David Eagleman, neuroscientist and assistant professor at Baylor College of Medicine. “Drive home via a different route or brush your teeth with your opposite hand.”

So, I’ve started using my left foot to drive around town. The tricky part is keeping my right leg out of the way. Now I just need more finesse when braking so the drivers around me don’t think I’m on crack. Yesterday, I faced a new challenge: As I waited for a car to back out of a parking space, some jerk in a Porsche suddenly zoomed out in front of me and took it! Oh boy was I mad. However, instead of cursing and flipping him off, I took a good, long look as he got out of his car and entered a nearby restaurant.

After parking, I headed straight for that restaurant. I didn’t care if he was with a bunch of businessmen or out on a date. He was going to hear from me. I whooshed past the maître’d and searched hard for the very, tall guy that I’d seen emerge from the Porsche. Bingo! He was alone at the bar, already halfway through a beer.

 “Hi!” I said with a big smile, sitting down next to him. “Are you aware of what just transpired between us outside?” He was genuinely confused.

 “You purposefully took the parking space that you saw me waiting for and even ran your stop sign to do it.”

 He looked down sheepishly and I had the sense that drinking on his lunch hour was common.

“Someone did that to me here last week,” he stammered.

 “That’s hardly an excuse,” I said. “Look, it seems like you’re having a rough time right now but if you start being nicer to the folks around you, things just might get better.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

 “Thank God,” I laughed. “For a minute there I thought I might have to beat you up!”

 He smiled.  Me, too.  See what happens when you shake things up?  Now, open your icebox and ask the dog what she’d like for dinner.    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PULL THE PLUG!

pull for help

You can pull that cord smack out of the wall and nobody in this hospital is gonna come anytime soon. Same goes for the handheld remote they give you with a large, red “NURSE” button. It’s all an illusion. Now, I am very grateful for the new knee, which my surgeon just put in. However, I was quite unprepared for the treatment that would follow.

 My nurse, Idga, (short for I Don’t Give A), helps me to the bathroom for a quick pee and disappears. As I gingerly sit down, the seat suddenly lurches sideways, sending a wrenching pain up my operated leg. Since Idga told me “not to move” without her, I pull the cord and wait. No one comes. Eventually, I maneuver myself to a stand by gripping the sink and pull it again. Nothing. Nervously, I call out, “Hello?” Finally, unable to stand much longer, I yodel, “You Who” in my loudest, operatic soprano.

 Idga swishes in. “You’re not supposed to walk on your own!” she scolds.

 “Well, the cord doesn’t work because I pulled and pulled and no one came.”

 “The cord works perfectly fine,” she hisses. “There are other people in this hospital besides you!”

 During my stay, Idga refuses to give me my pajamas so I can take off the itchy hospital gown, places the blood drain from my knee on the tray where I’m eating, purposely unplugs my iPhone and ignores my pleas for pain meds. When my husband insists that she give me ‘something,’ she grabs Toradol and shoves it into my IV so fast that the pain makes me gasp. “Inject Toradol by IV bolus over no less than 15 seconds,” Google says, otherwise it burns entering the vein.  Yup.

 Ironically, the hospital that impeccably sanitized me BEFORE my operation paid zippo attention to hygiene afterwards. Several people handle a breathing apparatus that I’m supposed to use to avoid pneumonia. One even drops it on the floor and hands it back to me. When Idga changes my bandage, she drops the gauze on the floor, picks it up and slaps it over my wound. (I know the floor is filthy because the yellow socks they insist I wear are black after only a few trips to the bathroom). The first afternoon, I throw up into the trashcan next to my bed and ask everyone, including Idga, to please take it out. It even has a removable, plastic liner but remains right there until I leave three days later.

 So, should you find yourself in a hospital, please be better prepared than I was:

  1.  Hit ‘record’ on your iPhone right at the get go when your nurse comes in. Explain that you’re making a documentary on ‘kindness and compassion.’
  2. Bring earplugs to deafen the constant noise from the floor loudspeaker, an eye patch to shut out the light from countless people coming and going and antibacterial wipes for your bed rails, door knobs and anything you touch!
  3. Bring your own water. The stuff they give you tastes like something from an airplane sink.  Actually, it’s worse.
  4. Keep your overnight bag within reach.  Otherwise, you may wrench off your hospital garb and be stark naked when you discover that you need your PJ’s.
  5. Bring an advocate, a whistle and a sense of humor if you plan to survive.  

 P. S.  The following day, a nice, young man–not hospital personnel–actually fixed my toilet seat!!

A LEG TO STAND ON

cropped-helen-leg-up-w-sky1.jpgBy the time you read this, they’ll be wheeling me into surgery for “total arthroplasty;” a knee replacement, or as my husband fondly describes it: “Basically, they’re gonna saw your leg in half and then hammer it back together with plastic/metal parts.” Sounds about right. 15 years ago, two sets of doctors in two different states told me that I needed double knee replacements. So, I quit running, took up swimming and learned to navigate differently, like taking stairs sideways and employing ample use of the lob in my tennis game. Anything to avoid the scalpel!

 As a result, I had more years on these knees than the medical profession deemed possible. They have jumped out of airplanes, ridden motorcycles, run thousands of miles, danced the Twist, tapped the Time Step, moonwalked, rocked babies, hiked the Grand Canyon, planted gardens and planked. They even marched me out to centerfield at 26 major league ball stadiums to sing the anthem. However, they are tired and who can blame them?

 Now don’t get me wrong; I am absolutely terrified of all things medical. If there’s even a hypodermic needle on a TV show, I look away. So, I will not be waltzing into the hospital with a big smile on my face. Nope. Thanks to my stubbornness, I will now be limping in on crutches. The pain is so severe that I figure anything the doctor does has to be better than this. And aren’t I lucky? Imagine if I were this crippled back in the 50’s? I wouldn’t even have the option of replacing my knee!

 I have dreaded this day for 15 years but now embrace it. I no longer can count on my knees to hold me up. Yesterday, as I hobbled into the gym, the left one gave out as it does suddenly and lurched me straight into a much older man walking with his wife. Terrified of falling, I gripped his upper body for dear life. He froze. Finally, I steadied myself and let go. He just stared at me without saying a word. “I’m so sorry,” I sputtered. “You’ll have to forgive me, this is how I meet men!” “Oh,” he smiled as if suddenly understanding, “Next time, I’ll be ready for you!” By then, of course, I do hope to have at least one, good leg to stand on. 🙂