Art Imitates Life

Or maybe as I watch something I become the sun yet again and make what I’m watching about me.

Naw. I do however look for nuggets of gold that I can relate to. When I find something I feel less alone.

I love my Hopper. It allows me to watch 60 Minutes. The 4/23 episode was particularly moving. For the last 10 years, they’ve interviewed a couple where the wife has Alzheimer’s. The progression of that horrible disease is cruel. The devotion of the husband turned caretaker was beyond admirable. For better or worse he said as I watched and cried. And I remembered grandma.

Makes me want to be better. To take nothing for granted. To live like there’s no tomorrow.

As always more to come.

So … The Medical Meat Market Series

Today is a little side bar.  I’ve been asked why I call this the medical meat market series?  Simple folks … a play on words.  I am not referring to “meat market” as in going to the club looking for Mr. Goodbar.  Have the good folks here even heard of Mr. Goodbar?  Surely they’ve heard of Diane Keaton?  And oh my why such a dark reference?  Way before 50 shades there was …

And does anyone even go to the club anymore?  Do they still look for love in all the wrong places?  Dang gurl, you’re old.  They don’t.  Instead folks swipe right/left or ….  hell you don’t know so don’t pretend.  Get on with the program.

Okay!  Given recent events that have forced me to seek medical treatment, I’ve come to learn that some of these big medical practices are more big business than first do no harm.  I am not insinuating they are all shady mofo’s but if the shoe fits?  Am I right?  In some cases sadly I am.  Like in anything else, bad apples exist.  Unfortunate when they spoil the barrel.  Guilt by association.  Yet as sure as I’m sitting here, there is exquisite goodness in the barrel too.

I’ve had the opportunity to walk into some of the biggest and brightest medical institutions, taking over entire floors and in one case the whole building.  As an observer, I have seen it all.  People in various stages of illness, packed in like sardines.  Nothing more than a number.  Or worse a dollar sign.  Like carcasses hanging on the hook.  Hence the reference to meat.

Have I painted a vivid enough picture?  Yes?  Then my work here is done.  For now anyways.

As always, more to come.

Y is for Young ~ April 29, 2018

I am middle-aged <gasp!> How does that happen?  I still feel 19.  Even with aches and pains, my mind has not caught up to my body.  And considering the alternative is death, I am grateful for each and every day that I am alive on this planet.  Random Tuesday at 2 pm, thank you so much for what you have given me.

Ah to be young again.  Hmm.  Nope not really my wish though I will occasionally make reference to being old.  Usually when I say something about my age I am fishing for a compliment.  I’d love to hear: Why no J-Dub, you do NOT look a day passed 35.  Wink, wink. Haha!

Oh and I bug the crap out of B.

Me: If you didn’t know me, how old would you guess I am?

B: 53

Me: Pfft, no really.  How old?

B: 53

Me: Okay then.  Could I pass for 45?

B: I am not going to answer you.  Stop asking.

What a pest I am.  Thank goodness he puts up with me.  He’s a saint y’all.  A flawed as crap saint but still angelic to me nonetheless.

Thing is back in the day, I looked younger than I was.  Funny story to tell.  Picture this –

It was a random day in August 1994.  I was still fit as a fiddle and running daily.  I took Pony to the high school with me.  He played with his Hot Wheels in the long jump pit while I ran laps.  Afterwards we went to register him for first grade.  I was wearing my Notre Dame T-shirt, green track shorts, tennis shoes, hair up in a pony tail. We walked into the lobby of the elementary school.  I had all the paperwork filled out; ready to go.  We waited our turn and when it finally came, the dialog went something like this.

Registrant to Pony: Will you be in kindergarten?

Pony: I’ll be in first grade.

Registrant looking at me: We need your mom or dad to come up here.

Me thinking what the hell do his grandparents have to do with registering him for school?

Registrant: nice what you are trying to do but this is a parent’s responsibility.

Me: I’m his mom.

Registrant: No really, go get your mother.

Then the principal Mr. S rounds the corner.  He knows my parents.  He taught my brother when Jimbo was in 3rd grade.  He says he will vouch for me.

I was 29 years young and the registrant thought I was about 17.  She apologized and said Pony and I looked so much alike we had to be siblings.  He is my twinkie even now.

But alas, that ship has sailed.  I’ve been chasing that compliment ever since though.  No wait!  Not really.  See above.  The lady  aka Jilly Willy doeth protest too much.  I am wise not old and forever young so suck It.  No don’t suck it.

As always, more to come.

This post was written as part of Blogging From A to Z April (2018) Challenge.

Número Veinticinco

#SoCS for 4/28/18 ~ Why/Y

Why what a glorious day!  Why? Well today is glorious because time has rolled around once again for Stream of Consciousness Saturday Shenanigans.  #SoCSS.

I have always wanted to find a reason why shenanigans belong in a post.  And this prompt is as good a reason as any.  Fun word/letter Why/Y.  High-jinx will surely ensue whenever the flow gets flowing.

Think, think, and think

It’s fun to stay at the Y M C A

It’s fun to stay at the Y M C A

Sing it with me.

No? you’re not interested in singing with me?

Why?

Pftt!  That’s no reason.  Who cares if you can’t carry a tune?

I’ll try again.

Y is for …

Oh forget it.

Why?

Wondering about things that don’t matter

How do you keep

Yourself sane?

Trick question!  I don’t.

If you’d like to participate with this band of merry prompt responders or read their articulate works Lookie Here Folks for the Good Stuff.

As always, more to come.

So … The Medical Meat Market Series

I share in case someone can relate.  This is not medical advice.  No duh as the kids say.  The following is my opinion.  Names will be changed to protect the guilty. This may be real or fantasy. With me ya never know.

I will attempt to reconstruct the events of my trials and tribulations searching for answers to what ails me.  We’ve established that I broke my arm in November of 2017.  I won’t belabor the point repeating all those stories.  I will just add this little bit of information.  In March of 2016, I had my first bone dexa scan which showed I had osteopenia.  I was given an RX to walk 30 minutes a day 3-5 days a week.

The protocol after a woman in her 50s breaks her arm is to have a bone dexa.  Didn’t matter that I had one almost two years before.  After all the healing was done and the cast officially came off, I was referred for just that.

The thing is I still see a GYN and a PCP.  There is no good reason for this except that I am certifiable.  And I did have some gyn specific issues in my day.  Getting into a specialist is like climbing Mt. Everest.  I stay on because I can get in to a NP at the GYN at the drop of a hat for things like post menopausal bleeding.  And that happened once so I stay on just in case. Cuz ya never know.

Since the dexa was added on to my mammogram orders, both GYN and PCP got a copy of the results.  My PCP saw me at my annual physical and was going to start me on a protocol of taking Fosamax (generic) since insurance would only cover the newer better RX if I had GI reactions to Fosamax (generic).  Despite the warning not to and despite being told, I’d prescribe this to my mother but only allow her to take it for 3 years tops, I STILLgoogled Fosamax (generic).  Then I was like not only NO but HELL no! I did fill the RX but never took a single pill.  I have a follow-up with her in July.

Enough for now.  As always, more to come.

 

 

X is for X-Ray ~ April 27, 2018

This will be short because there are only 400 words that begin with X in the English language and I do not know the definition of most of them.  Even after I looked up a few, I was quickly overwhelmed and could not really gain a true understanding or at least enough of an understanding to write coherently.

Hey!  I can hear you.  I’m in the room aren’t I?  HaHa funny you laugh.  I know I am not the most coherent writer now with my tangents and all.  I am #SoCS everyday, not just Saturdays.

Landing the plane, I picked X-Ray even though X-Ray is not on the list of X words.  Hmm. Well of course not because an X-Ray is short hand for electromagnetic radiation which is an E word.

This is getting too sciencey  y’all (yes I made up another word).  I am not feeling it.  I guess I’ll go back to reading and lounging because TGIF.

As always, more to come.

This post was written as part of Blogging From A to Z April (2018) Challenge.

Número  Veinticuatro

W is for Worry, Worst Case and What Else ~ April 26, 2018

Worry – One of my first memories is standing on the front porch of D’s house with a wrapped gift in my hands.  My brother is to my right, our mom behind us.  I see the screened door and potted plants.  I hear laughter.  I swear I can even smell honeysuckle in the air.

Me: Don’t knock yet!!!!

Brother: Why not? Everyone is already in there.

Me (shaking): I feel sick, my stomach is prickling again.

Mom: That’s butterflies, you’ll be fine.

Me: You’re staying right?

Mom: Yes, I’ll stay for a while.

When mom left, I did too.  Later we went back to get brother.  I’ve always been a worrier.  No idea why.  Maybe worry is how I am hard-wired?  I blame no one.  I hate when people blame.  Humans try to give reasons for every fucking thing.  Sometimes stuff simply is.

Worst Case – Long before Beth and Randall played worst case scenario on the TV show This is Us! Little Jill did the same.  The mind is powerful folks.  This coping mechanism was my savior.  Saved me from a life of drugs.

While I always assume the worst, what I imagine NEVER happens.  Whew! Sighs of relief as each imagined tragedy passes. Then I gear up for the next big drama.

I need to be more chill.  Like the explosives expert asked if he worries on the job “Naw man, I’m successful or I die.  If I die, no longer my problem.  I mean really whatcha gonna do?  When your time comes, Kabluhy! Assuming the worst is no way to live.”

I’m working to end the cycle of thinking this way.  I mean if I keep this up, I may never get out of bed.  Life is wicked and beautiful in one fell swoop. Duck and cover people.  Or vivir la vida al máximo!

What else can it be? This nifty technique from CBT is a new tool in my mental health tool box.  The worry and worst case scenario thinking has got me frazzled.  I’m in a continuous state of churn.  To combat the anxiety associated with this flawed logic, my therapist said when I feel that I’m spinning out, I should ask myself what else can it be? Here’s an example:

Me: I am dying of bone cancer.

Me What else can it be?

Me: You did find out you have osteoporosis. Maybe that is it NOT bone cancer?

Me continued: Oh ya but by the time cancer hurts it is too late.  I have been feeling better and the pain has lessened lately ergo I have bone cancer.

Me: What else can it be?

As you can see folks, I still have work to do.  But I am making progress. Wish me luck. 🍀

As always, more to come.

This post was written as part of Blogging From A to Z April (2018) Challenge.

Número Veintitres.

My Brain is Fried

Today was a banner day folks.  I want to write about it.  I must chop this day full of stories into pieces or I’ll lose most of you in the ramble that is flowing through my fried brain.

I have already tossed out:

New Day New Doc

So … 4/25/18

#1linerWeds. 4/25/18

So … 4/25/18 at 6:28 PM CST

And these are all related to my physical ailments.

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor. 

Duh!

But I do play one on TV. 

No you most certainly do NOT J-Dub. 

But I could. 

Not you couldn’t.  Now move along.

Okay!  I share this with my disclaimer as this piece is not intended to be medical advice or take the place to seeking medical attention from someone who is properly trained.  <ahem> like you right?

Continuing, this is just me over sharing as usual on the off-chance someone can glean something good from my experience or have a big laugh.  Either way I score.

And this is just the prologue or post prologue to the above linked stories.  I am too over stimulated to write more now.  Besides Survivor is almost on.  My beloved and I are creatures of habit and we will watch.