Friday, September 28, 2007
Children's Books
I wandered in to the children's book section this week. I was needing to purchase a gift for my nephew's 2nd birthday. I had looked at the toys at the superstore, but the words "recall" kept ringing in my ears. I also found myself wondering how every toy I looked at would allow his imagination to grow. A two year old boy is fascinating to watch!
It's been a long time since I have been in the children's book section. I began by browsing the Christian books. There were several that were beautiful, but none that had the simplicity for which I was looking.
I began walking a bit more and found the Dr. Suess section. There were several board books just like I was hoping to find. I picked one up, opened it, and was immediately taken back in time.
I was sitting on a couch with a freshly bathed and jammied toddler boy snuggled up to me. We were reading "Go, Dog, Go!", complete with sound effects and drama.
Well, that book was a keeper.
Next came "Dr. Suess' ABC Book". The rhythm of reading that book came back quickly - "Big A, little A. What begins with A?" Once again I was back in one of my boy's bedrooms. This time it was a rare afternoon quiet time that they had brought a book to me to read.
Keeping that one too.
I picked up a couple of others and continued browsing. And then I found it - quite possibly one of my favorite bedtime books - "Good Night, Gorilla". And it was a board book! I smiled as I looked through it, remembering the silly antics of the baby gorilla.
Okay - I HAD to get this one also. So, I put back a couple of other books and left with the three mentioned ones.
We have a special book shelf in one of the boy's closets that holds "keepsake books". These are the ones I cannot bring myself to part with each time we clean out books. Our copy of "Good Night, Gorilla" is there. It's actually in good shape considering all it has been through - two boys. Just one loose page I need to repair and one page that is completely taped back together.
A good reminder to seize each moment, for it all passes quickly.
Carpe Diem.
simple faith
I wandered in to the children's book section this week. I was needing to purchase a gift for my nephew's 2nd birthday. I had looked at the toys at the superstore, but the words "recall" kept ringing in my ears. I also found myself wondering how every toy I looked at would allow his imagination to grow. A two year old boy is fascinating to watch!
It's been a long time since I have been in the children's book section. I began by browsing the Christian books. There were several that were beautiful, but none that had the simplicity for which I was looking.
I began walking a bit more and found the Dr. Suess section. There were several board books just like I was hoping to find. I picked one up, opened it, and was immediately taken back in time.
I was sitting on a couch with a freshly bathed and jammied toddler boy snuggled up to me. We were reading "Go, Dog, Go!", complete with sound effects and drama.
Well, that book was a keeper.
Next came "Dr. Suess' ABC Book". The rhythm of reading that book came back quickly - "Big A, little A. What begins with A?" Once again I was back in one of my boy's bedrooms. This time it was a rare afternoon quiet time that they had brought a book to me to read.
Keeping that one too.
I picked up a couple of others and continued browsing. And then I found it - quite possibly one of my favorite bedtime books - "Good Night, Gorilla". And it was a board book! I smiled as I looked through it, remembering the silly antics of the baby gorilla.
Okay - I HAD to get this one also. So, I put back a couple of other books and left with the three mentioned ones.
We have a special book shelf in one of the boy's closets that holds "keepsake books". These are the ones I cannot bring myself to part with each time we clean out books. Our copy of "Good Night, Gorilla" is there. It's actually in good shape considering all it has been through - two boys. Just one loose page I need to repair and one page that is completely taped back together.
A good reminder to seize each moment, for it all passes quickly.
Carpe Diem.
simple faith
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Being somewhat green
"It's not easy being green." Kermit the frog sang that one. (I have always had a special place in my heart for the Muppets.) And I am really not talking green like Elphaba (from Wicked). No, I am talking the tree hugging, Hollywood hip, culturally elite, Al Gore, Michael Moore thinking type green!
For those of you who know how difficult it was for me to even type those names, please note that I stepped away from the computer, took a few sips of Dr. Pepper to steady myself, and have now returned - I will not use the names again!!
But somehow I am pretty sure that being somewhat green plays out in a much different fashion in my life than in the above mentioned sort of people. You see in my life being somewhat green means the following things.
Keeping my modestly sized house moderately cooled and heated.
Opening blinds on certain days and not on other days.
Opening windows during "perfect temperature" times (doesn't happen a lot in my panhandle state).
Combining errands so I do not drive around and around my small city wasting gas.
On occasion walking to the store - and petitioning my friends who own a grocery store to put in a market in our 'hood.
Reusing paper, paper sacks, plastic bags, and absolutely anything else I think can be reused.
Making my boys use spiral notebooks from (gasp) last year - yes, I know it says a 70 page spiral notebook. . .this one has 67 pages in it - trust me, I counted them (well not really, but my guesstimate can't be too far off).
Not leaving on lights or electronics that are not in use.
CONSTANTLY making sure the doors are all closed properly.
Planting trees and other plants.
Supporting my local farmer's market.
And well, I could go on, but you get the point. We make an honest effort at trying to be good stewards of our world. And why do we do it? Not because we are shooting a mockumentary - oh, sorry - I meant to say dockumentary - no, let's try again - dorkumentary - oh well, whatever it is. No, we do it because it is the right thing to do - being a good steward.
But, ssshhhhh! Please don't tell anyone. They may ask me to host the Oscars next year.
simple faith
"It's not easy being green." Kermit the frog sang that one. (I have always had a special place in my heart for the Muppets.) And I am really not talking green like Elphaba (from Wicked). No, I am talking the tree hugging, Hollywood hip, culturally elite, Al Gore, Michael Moore thinking type green!
For those of you who know how difficult it was for me to even type those names, please note that I stepped away from the computer, took a few sips of Dr. Pepper to steady myself, and have now returned - I will not use the names again!!
But somehow I am pretty sure that being somewhat green plays out in a much different fashion in my life than in the above mentioned sort of people. You see in my life being somewhat green means the following things.
Keeping my modestly sized house moderately cooled and heated.
Opening blinds on certain days and not on other days.
Opening windows during "perfect temperature" times (doesn't happen a lot in my panhandle state).
Combining errands so I do not drive around and around my small city wasting gas.
On occasion walking to the store - and petitioning my friends who own a grocery store to put in a market in our 'hood.
Reusing paper, paper sacks, plastic bags, and absolutely anything else I think can be reused.
Making my boys use spiral notebooks from (gasp) last year - yes, I know it says a 70 page spiral notebook. . .this one has 67 pages in it - trust me, I counted them (well not really, but my guesstimate can't be too far off).
Not leaving on lights or electronics that are not in use.
CONSTANTLY making sure the doors are all closed properly.
Planting trees and other plants.
Supporting my local farmer's market.
And well, I could go on, but you get the point. We make an honest effort at trying to be good stewards of our world. And why do we do it? Not because we are shooting a mockumentary - oh, sorry - I meant to say dockumentary - no, let's try again - dorkumentary - oh well, whatever it is. No, we do it because it is the right thing to do - being a good steward.
But, ssshhhhh! Please don't tell anyone. They may ask me to host the Oscars next year.
simple faith
Labels: Just a little sassy, Life
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Chicago, IL
Despite our harrowing taxi ride upon arrival, our stay in Chicago was really great.
Our hotel was on the Chicago River. Opening our drapes in our room gave us a much different view than the river - construction! This was not what we had expected, but ended up being a matter of fascination for me each day. I would sit each morning and afternoon for a bit and watch all that was happening. Our small city on the plains does not build skyscrapers and the bird's eye view I had of the process was really pretty cool.
Highlights:
*Eating at Harry Carry's across the street from our hotel. I am sure it is a touristy place, but the antipasta platter was yummy with several cured meats and an awesome blue cheese. I managed to keep myself from buying a pair of sweat pants with "Holy Cow!" across the boohind.
*Roaming the Navy Pier was interesting. I would not recommend using the free trolley service in Chicago unless you really needed to do so. Our experience led to frustration and the beginning of blisters on my feet.
*Old Town Trolley Tour was wonderful, as always. They are one of my favorite tour companies and I learned alot about the city on the tour. I also took the optional ethnic neighborhood part of the tour which was very interesting. The main tour includes a trip on LSD - aka, Lake Shore Drive!
*A couple of other really good restaurants - Maggiano's Little Italy and one of Rick Bayless' restaurants - can't think of the name right now.
*The Art Institute of Chicago was a great museum. Another lady and I walked there and then spent the day roaming and then walked back to our hotel. More blisters! The museum houses several recognizable paintings (including American Gothic) and several things I had never seen or heard of before.
*The Magnificent Mile of shopping was what I kept accidentally calling the Million Dollar Mile. Probably a Freudian thing because I think you would have to have a million dollars to shop there. Perhaps my feet hurting so badly I thought I would cry had something to do with it, but I was not in the mood for high end browsing. The Ralph Lauren Store was a fantasy tour. But sorry Filene's - I don't like digging through stuff to shop - not even for high end bargains! I ultimately limped into Niketown and left wearing one pair of $12 socks and a new pair of tennis shoes and carrying a bag holding another pair of tennies and my "these shoes are not made for walking" sandals. Yes, I said $12 dollar socks and given the circumstances, I would do it again!
*Wrigley Field was a pilgrimage for me. Seriously - I have wanted to go for a really long time and calling it a 40th birthday celebration for me was incredible. If you don't follow baseball I don't have the time to explain the significance to you. If you do follow baseball, rejoice with me. We watched the Cubs play the Brewers. Starting pitchers: Sheets and Zambrano. The wind was blowing in at Wrigley, so no onto Sheffield Drive homeruns. But we did sing during the 7th inning stretch and we left with an autographed picture of Derrek Lee. Unfortunately, my Cubbies lost. But as of this morning they are 1/2 game up on Milwalkee. Go Cubbies!!!
*We took the Untouchables Tour before leaving town. It was purposefully hokey (as expected) but also interesting. While waiting for the bus to arrive my husband leans over and points out an older gentleman waiting to take the tour. "Old ganster," indicates my husband. True, the man had a look about him. Turns out he claims to be Al Capone's great (great?) grandson! Who knows??
We would definitely go to Chicago again. Things I would add to my list to do or see:
Lots more restaurants - touristy and homey.
Several more museums.
Lake, river, and architectural tours.
Shedd Aquarium.
Loyola and DePaul Universities.
Cubs (again), Sox, and Bears.
Stadium tours.
Find the adventure in every day!
simple faith
Despite our harrowing taxi ride upon arrival, our stay in Chicago was really great.
Our hotel was on the Chicago River. Opening our drapes in our room gave us a much different view than the river - construction! This was not what we had expected, but ended up being a matter of fascination for me each day. I would sit each morning and afternoon for a bit and watch all that was happening. Our small city on the plains does not build skyscrapers and the bird's eye view I had of the process was really pretty cool.
Highlights:
*Eating at Harry Carry's across the street from our hotel. I am sure it is a touristy place, but the antipasta platter was yummy with several cured meats and an awesome blue cheese. I managed to keep myself from buying a pair of sweat pants with "Holy Cow!" across the boohind.
*Roaming the Navy Pier was interesting. I would not recommend using the free trolley service in Chicago unless you really needed to do so. Our experience led to frustration and the beginning of blisters on my feet.
*Old Town Trolley Tour was wonderful, as always. They are one of my favorite tour companies and I learned alot about the city on the tour. I also took the optional ethnic neighborhood part of the tour which was very interesting. The main tour includes a trip on LSD - aka, Lake Shore Drive!
*A couple of other really good restaurants - Maggiano's Little Italy and one of Rick Bayless' restaurants - can't think of the name right now.
*The Art Institute of Chicago was a great museum. Another lady and I walked there and then spent the day roaming and then walked back to our hotel. More blisters! The museum houses several recognizable paintings (including American Gothic) and several things I had never seen or heard of before.
*The Magnificent Mile of shopping was what I kept accidentally calling the Million Dollar Mile. Probably a Freudian thing because I think you would have to have a million dollars to shop there. Perhaps my feet hurting so badly I thought I would cry had something to do with it, but I was not in the mood for high end browsing. The Ralph Lauren Store was a fantasy tour. But sorry Filene's - I don't like digging through stuff to shop - not even for high end bargains! I ultimately limped into Niketown and left wearing one pair of $12 socks and a new pair of tennis shoes and carrying a bag holding another pair of tennies and my "these shoes are not made for walking" sandals. Yes, I said $12 dollar socks and given the circumstances, I would do it again!
*Wrigley Field was a pilgrimage for me. Seriously - I have wanted to go for a really long time and calling it a 40th birthday celebration for me was incredible. If you don't follow baseball I don't have the time to explain the significance to you. If you do follow baseball, rejoice with me. We watched the Cubs play the Brewers. Starting pitchers: Sheets and Zambrano. The wind was blowing in at Wrigley, so no onto Sheffield Drive homeruns. But we did sing during the 7th inning stretch and we left with an autographed picture of Derrek Lee. Unfortunately, my Cubbies lost. But as of this morning they are 1/2 game up on Milwalkee. Go Cubbies!!!
*We took the Untouchables Tour before leaving town. It was purposefully hokey (as expected) but also interesting. While waiting for the bus to arrive my husband leans over and points out an older gentleman waiting to take the tour. "Old ganster," indicates my husband. True, the man had a look about him. Turns out he claims to be Al Capone's great (great?) grandson! Who knows??
We would definitely go to Chicago again. Things I would add to my list to do or see:
Lots more restaurants - touristy and homey.
Several more museums.
Lake, river, and architectural tours.
Shedd Aquarium.
Loyola and DePaul Universities.
Cubs (again), Sox, and Bears.
Stadium tours.
Find the adventure in every day!
simple faith
Labels: Travel
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Arriving and Departing
Last year, with a 20th anniversary and 40th birthday pending, my husband and I began discussing taking a trip to celebrate the occasions. We eventually decided on a cruise and began making some of the preparations - as in getting a passport.
In the spring we began searching for a cruise. We consulted my Mom and StepDad - they are becoming quite the cruisers. Armed with information and ideas we kicked around the ideas for weeks. We simply could not commit to anything. I finally stated the obvious by noting that we really did not seem too fired up about this idea. My hesitations: taking a cruise during hurricane season and hot weather (if I don't enjoy the hotter than Hades summers in my panhandle state, why would I pay good money to cruise someplace that is also hot in August?).
So, we began exploring other options. An Alaskan cruise would have rocked - our budget anyways. Chicago has always intrigued us both and we began looking online for places to stay, etc. It didn't take too long to discover that a weekend in Chicago was going to be a bit on the expensive side. We nixed the idea and settle for looking into cruises for next spring.
Unbeknownst to us, God was making a way. My husband was given the opportunity to attend a conference in Chicago in August - cool huh? We made the arrangements and were off on our adventure.
We have flown in and out of Chicago more than once, but have never actually "been" in Chicago. I was not really sure what to expect and well, we got off to a harrowing start on our adventure.
We decided to take a taxi to the hotel. At O'Hare you get in line and as the next taxi pulls forward you have your ride. As we are waiting a driver comes to the airport guy in charge, says something, and we are offered a ride downtown in a waiting taxi. We realize that someone else is already in the taxi and we are told we are "ride sharing" and given the indication that it will be less expensive. As the driver crams our belongings in his trunk, he also shoves yet another person's belongings in also and all 4 of us passengers are off to downtown Chicago.
It takes me less than a minute to decide that this is a really bad idea. Our driver's skills both in driving and communicating are seriously questionable. I exchange all sorts of looks with my husband. We have arrived on Sunday, but this is not quite the holy experience I was looking forward to having - in fact I am beginning to wonder if a Pearly Gate experience is in my immediate future.
The traffic is horrible and our driver is AGGRESSIVE. I try to make small talk with the lady sitting next to me. "Is the traffic always this bad?" She has not lived here very long and is obviously pondering her own Pearly Gate experience.
At an unusually slow moment of our trip I spot one of those digital construction signs. It states that some street is closed - take LSD. I am laughing, the lady next to me is not as amused and has no idea what the sign means, and I am almost certain my driver has taken the sign literally.
At just the precise moment that I have decided that I would rather walk than be in this cab any longer, our driver exits the freeway. I am thinking that surely the residential/downtown experience will be better. He is dropping off the lady next to me first. As she tries to explain where her address is I am sending up "flare prayers" for each pedistrian anywhere near us - trust me, our driver does not care for them.
After unloading her, our driver somehow, miraculously, gets us to our hotel. As I slide out of the backseat I lean forward and say, "Good luck" to the 30something gentleman sitting in the front seat. He has not moved a muscle since our ride began.
We almost took the subway to the airport on the day we flew out. But instead were blessed with a really great and personable taxi driver. He was from Seattle (one of our favorite trips), had driven a limo in NYC, and was living in Chicago because his wife's family is there.
We told him of our horrible experience upon arriving. He asked us what color the cab was. Red. He explained some things to us about that company and its drivers, noting that a lot of locals will not even use the company because of its reputation.
So a warning to anyone visiting Chicago - DO NOT USE THE RED CABS!
By the way, our trip back to the airport was cheaper than our trip to the hotel - go figure.
simple faith
Last year, with a 20th anniversary and 40th birthday pending, my husband and I began discussing taking a trip to celebrate the occasions. We eventually decided on a cruise and began making some of the preparations - as in getting a passport.
In the spring we began searching for a cruise. We consulted my Mom and StepDad - they are becoming quite the cruisers. Armed with information and ideas we kicked around the ideas for weeks. We simply could not commit to anything. I finally stated the obvious by noting that we really did not seem too fired up about this idea. My hesitations: taking a cruise during hurricane season and hot weather (if I don't enjoy the hotter than Hades summers in my panhandle state, why would I pay good money to cruise someplace that is also hot in August?).
So, we began exploring other options. An Alaskan cruise would have rocked - our budget anyways. Chicago has always intrigued us both and we began looking online for places to stay, etc. It didn't take too long to discover that a weekend in Chicago was going to be a bit on the expensive side. We nixed the idea and settle for looking into cruises for next spring.
Unbeknownst to us, God was making a way. My husband was given the opportunity to attend a conference in Chicago in August - cool huh? We made the arrangements and were off on our adventure.
We have flown in and out of Chicago more than once, but have never actually "been" in Chicago. I was not really sure what to expect and well, we got off to a harrowing start on our adventure.
We decided to take a taxi to the hotel. At O'Hare you get in line and as the next taxi pulls forward you have your ride. As we are waiting a driver comes to the airport guy in charge, says something, and we are offered a ride downtown in a waiting taxi. We realize that someone else is already in the taxi and we are told we are "ride sharing" and given the indication that it will be less expensive. As the driver crams our belongings in his trunk, he also shoves yet another person's belongings in also and all 4 of us passengers are off to downtown Chicago.
It takes me less than a minute to decide that this is a really bad idea. Our driver's skills both in driving and communicating are seriously questionable. I exchange all sorts of looks with my husband. We have arrived on Sunday, but this is not quite the holy experience I was looking forward to having - in fact I am beginning to wonder if a Pearly Gate experience is in my immediate future.
The traffic is horrible and our driver is AGGRESSIVE. I try to make small talk with the lady sitting next to me. "Is the traffic always this bad?" She has not lived here very long and is obviously pondering her own Pearly Gate experience.
At an unusually slow moment of our trip I spot one of those digital construction signs. It states that some street is closed - take LSD. I am laughing, the lady next to me is not as amused and has no idea what the sign means, and I am almost certain my driver has taken the sign literally.
At just the precise moment that I have decided that I would rather walk than be in this cab any longer, our driver exits the freeway. I am thinking that surely the residential/downtown experience will be better. He is dropping off the lady next to me first. As she tries to explain where her address is I am sending up "flare prayers" for each pedistrian anywhere near us - trust me, our driver does not care for them.
After unloading her, our driver somehow, miraculously, gets us to our hotel. As I slide out of the backseat I lean forward and say, "Good luck" to the 30something gentleman sitting in the front seat. He has not moved a muscle since our ride began.
We almost took the subway to the airport on the day we flew out. But instead were blessed with a really great and personable taxi driver. He was from Seattle (one of our favorite trips), had driven a limo in NYC, and was living in Chicago because his wife's family is there.
We told him of our horrible experience upon arriving. He asked us what color the cab was. Red. He explained some things to us about that company and its drivers, noting that a lot of locals will not even use the company because of its reputation.
So a warning to anyone visiting Chicago - DO NOT USE THE RED CABS!
By the way, our trip back to the airport was cheaper than our trip to the hotel - go figure.
simple faith
Labels: Travel
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Hazard Pay
For a couple of years now I have petitioned for hazard pay for the laundry lady. It started a couple of summers ago when I opened the trunk of things that had spent a week at Boy Scout camp with my youngest son. The smell literally made me take a step back.
Things have not changed since. Recently I have even found myself walking through the house while they are at school spraying the Febreze like a mad woman.
The following conversation took place Saturday afternoon. My husband is driving, I am in the passenger seat and my youngest son is in the back - having just completed a football game. I have spent the few blocks from the field to our house alternating between trying to hold my breath and taking quick breaths with my hand under my nose. We are pulling into the garage when it begins.
Youngest son: "Something smells."
Mom: "It's you."
Son: "No - something smells."
Mom: "Honey, it's you."
Son: "No. The garage smells like Lowe's."
Mom: "Oh - Dad picked up some stuff for the lawn. You need to put your football stuff in the basket outside."
Yes, I said the basket outside - as in on the back patio. I have begun making him put his really smelly stuff in a laundry basket outside until the laundry lady can wash it.
Anyone want to sign a petition?
simple faith
For a couple of years now I have petitioned for hazard pay for the laundry lady. It started a couple of summers ago when I opened the trunk of things that had spent a week at Boy Scout camp with my youngest son. The smell literally made me take a step back.
Things have not changed since. Recently I have even found myself walking through the house while they are at school spraying the Febreze like a mad woman.
The following conversation took place Saturday afternoon. My husband is driving, I am in the passenger seat and my youngest son is in the back - having just completed a football game. I have spent the few blocks from the field to our house alternating between trying to hold my breath and taking quick breaths with my hand under my nose. We are pulling into the garage when it begins.
Youngest son: "Something smells."
Mom: "It's you."
Son: "No - something smells."
Mom: "Honey, it's you."
Son: "No. The garage smells like Lowe's."
Mom: "Oh - Dad picked up some stuff for the lawn. You need to put your football stuff in the basket outside."
Yes, I said the basket outside - as in on the back patio. I have begun making him put his really smelly stuff in a laundry basket outside until the laundry lady can wash it.
Anyone want to sign a petition?
simple faith
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
A Smashing Success
It seems that each time I enter a new decade my doctor and his nurse note the milestone with a new list of "things to be watching for". I was quite dismayed when at 30 the nurse noted my age on my chart in large numbers and circled it, just to make sure it was noticed. I was not sure why she felt the need to do such a thing - afterall I had simply turned 30, not contacted some deadly disease. That visit began the "things to be watching for" discussions.
So in May of this year, with the fourtieth birthday only months away, the words "baseline mammogram" were used. My doctor scribbled something intelligible on his prescription pad, signed his name, and said, "Let's get this done."
Now in my short time on this earth I have become familiar with baselines on basketball courts and baselines on baseball diamonds - baseline medical tests were not a part of my vocabulary. To be honest I am not really sure that I am thrilled to add them to my vocabulary. It pretty much signifies the passing into a new era of my life.
Not wanting to rush into this new era, I placed the doctor's orders in my calendar for the Tuesday following Labor Day. You know, kind of like a 40th birthday gift to myself (haha).
And being gold, I placed the phone call last Tuesday to set up my appointment. I decided to go to our hospital that has a new digital imaging machine (we actually have two hospitals in our small city on the plains). The phone call goes well and the appointment is made.
The kind lady on the phone gives me the following last minute instructions: "No deodorant, lotion, or powder in the area. Any questions?" At this point I am searching for something to write these instructions on and my response is, "No, thank you." I scribble down the words and pause to look at them. Had I heard her correctly? I dared not call back. No, I called Q who possesses a scary amount of knowledge and information about medical things.
I proudly tell her I have made my appointment and then say, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
I repeat the words I had written on paper. "Now, it is not my custom to put deodorant on my boobs, so does she mean don't wear any deodorant?"
Q is laughing as she begins to explain the process to me and how I don't want anything at all to possibly alter the pictures. "They will pull all the skin possible to put on the platform to take a picture, including any from your armpit area."
Now I am the one laughing. Q and I are just a tad bit differently blessed in the boob department. Trust me, they aren't going to be pulling much!
So today was M day as I will call it. I constantly repeated to myself in the shower - no deodorant, lotion, or powder. I am so routine oriented that this "out of routine" experience is a bit tricky. Thankfully my appointment is early and my chances of smelling like a teenage boy before I get done are somewhat minimal. I pack my deodorant in my purse and I am off on this new adventure.
I have purposefully dressed in one of my favorite outfits - doing anything to keep my confidence buoyed. At the hospital I check in with the silver haired gentleman volunteer at patient registration. He directs me to the Women's Imaging Center and I enter a wonderful little world away from the sterile environs of the hospital.
A kind lady takes my info and soon leads me to an area resembling a department store's dressing room. She instructs me on how to put on my cape and asks a few more questions. As I wait briefly I notice my skirt coordinates with my cape - a little detail that for some reason brings harmony and peace. I am calm as I enter the room and am introduced to the machine.
For those of you who have been "photographed", well you know. For those of you who have not, it's really not that bad. My pictures were a success - no do-overs. I even saw each of them and she explained what things were.
Although my official results will probably not come until next week - I have declared it a smashing success!
simple faith
It seems that each time I enter a new decade my doctor and his nurse note the milestone with a new list of "things to be watching for". I was quite dismayed when at 30 the nurse noted my age on my chart in large numbers and circled it, just to make sure it was noticed. I was not sure why she felt the need to do such a thing - afterall I had simply turned 30, not contacted some deadly disease. That visit began the "things to be watching for" discussions.
So in May of this year, with the fourtieth birthday only months away, the words "baseline mammogram" were used. My doctor scribbled something intelligible on his prescription pad, signed his name, and said, "Let's get this done."
Now in my short time on this earth I have become familiar with baselines on basketball courts and baselines on baseball diamonds - baseline medical tests were not a part of my vocabulary. To be honest I am not really sure that I am thrilled to add them to my vocabulary. It pretty much signifies the passing into a new era of my life.
Not wanting to rush into this new era, I placed the doctor's orders in my calendar for the Tuesday following Labor Day. You know, kind of like a 40th birthday gift to myself (haha).
And being gold, I placed the phone call last Tuesday to set up my appointment. I decided to go to our hospital that has a new digital imaging machine (we actually have two hospitals in our small city on the plains). The phone call goes well and the appointment is made.
The kind lady on the phone gives me the following last minute instructions: "No deodorant, lotion, or powder in the area. Any questions?" At this point I am searching for something to write these instructions on and my response is, "No, thank you." I scribble down the words and pause to look at them. Had I heard her correctly? I dared not call back. No, I called Q who possesses a scary amount of knowledge and information about medical things.
I proudly tell her I have made my appointment and then say, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
I repeat the words I had written on paper. "Now, it is not my custom to put deodorant on my boobs, so does she mean don't wear any deodorant?"
Q is laughing as she begins to explain the process to me and how I don't want anything at all to possibly alter the pictures. "They will pull all the skin possible to put on the platform to take a picture, including any from your armpit area."
Now I am the one laughing. Q and I are just a tad bit differently blessed in the boob department. Trust me, they aren't going to be pulling much!
So today was M day as I will call it. I constantly repeated to myself in the shower - no deodorant, lotion, or powder. I am so routine oriented that this "out of routine" experience is a bit tricky. Thankfully my appointment is early and my chances of smelling like a teenage boy before I get done are somewhat minimal. I pack my deodorant in my purse and I am off on this new adventure.
I have purposefully dressed in one of my favorite outfits - doing anything to keep my confidence buoyed. At the hospital I check in with the silver haired gentleman volunteer at patient registration. He directs me to the Women's Imaging Center and I enter a wonderful little world away from the sterile environs of the hospital.
A kind lady takes my info and soon leads me to an area resembling a department store's dressing room. She instructs me on how to put on my cape and asks a few more questions. As I wait briefly I notice my skirt coordinates with my cape - a little detail that for some reason brings harmony and peace. I am calm as I enter the room and am introduced to the machine.
For those of you who have been "photographed", well you know. For those of you who have not, it's really not that bad. My pictures were a success - no do-overs. I even saw each of them and she explained what things were.
Although my official results will probably not come until next week - I have declared it a smashing success!
simple faith
Labels: Life
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Becoming ZITS
Sometime back, at least ten years ago, a new cartoon appeared in our local newspaper. Some of my friends loved it and declared in insightful. I did not agree with them. The cartoon featured a family of a dad, mom, and teenage son (an a college son who makes rare appearances). The teenager was lazy, clueless, and a bit sassy. The parents muttered under their breath and exchanged looks between themselves. How could this be funny? Surely my precious young children would never become such creatures.
In the course of 35 days this summer the following occured in my life: my oldest son turned 15, my youngest son turned 13, my husband and I celebrated our 20th anniversary, and I turned 40.
Over the past few years the cartoon has become more and more "meaningful" to me. I have discovered that without a sense of humor about the teenage years, you will face way too much stress and frustration. Laughter is good medicine.
So today I will freely confess, my life has become ZITS!
simple faith
Sometime back, at least ten years ago, a new cartoon appeared in our local newspaper. Some of my friends loved it and declared in insightful. I did not agree with them. The cartoon featured a family of a dad, mom, and teenage son (an a college son who makes rare appearances). The teenager was lazy, clueless, and a bit sassy. The parents muttered under their breath and exchanged looks between themselves. How could this be funny? Surely my precious young children would never become such creatures.
In the course of 35 days this summer the following occured in my life: my oldest son turned 15, my youngest son turned 13, my husband and I celebrated our 20th anniversary, and I turned 40.
Over the past few years the cartoon has become more and more "meaningful" to me. I have discovered that without a sense of humor about the teenage years, you will face way too much stress and frustration. Laughter is good medicine.
So today I will freely confess, my life has become ZITS!
simple faith
