Passport

After 3 months, I finally FINALLY got my passport in the mail today. Why did it take so long you ask? Because the US government would not issue me one since my birth certificate was a government issued birth certificate because I happened to be born on a military base. They needed a county birth certificate. So I had to get a certification from the county the base was in - the certification basically said that they certify that the government issued birth certificate is valid. Still no clue how a county certification trumps a government military seal. But I feel sorry for those who were born on a military base not on US property and thus have no county.

I got the call from my son today. I know he was doing the jig at the mailbox that it came. Why you ask? Because that meant we were definitely leaving the house and him alone in said house without parents. What kid wouldn't be happy? But said 26 year old needs to move out. Now I am thinking of letting inlaws stay here. Bet that would get him out in a nanosecond!

Off to pack - back in a couple weeks!

Beware of Cabinet Doors

I bet you all are thinking I have really lost it now. Yep I am going to talk about cabinet doors. I liken them to the toilet seat post. For those of you who don't get the connection between cabinet doors and toilet seats, these are 2 of my pet peeves. They are about the same level of things that piss me off. The worst though is what happened last night.

I went to bed wiped out from the day from hell yesterday. I even resorted to a pain pill which I rarely do so when I fell asleep I pretty much zonked. I got up around 6am to potty and still wasn't really awake.

If you guessed I went splish splash you are right. Thing is after the splish splash, I went to stand up and hit my head on the overhead cabinet door. No blood drawn but it just blows my mind how the other person who uses the master bathroom would gosh forbid put the toilet seat down but close a cabinet door. I think it is a good day that one only of those occurs.

So I come downstairs after my shower and getting ready to find EVERY SINGLE cabinet door wide open in the kitchen. Now why he was in the crystal cabinet I have no clue. Why he was in the rag drawer I don't want to know. All he did was make coffee but the tupperware cabinet, the glass bowls cabinet, the pots and pans cabinet, the mixermaster/blender/food processor/salad shooter/breadmaker cabinet door was open, the dinnerware cabinet was open, the cooking utensil drawer was open, the pot holder drawer was open, the silverware drawer was open, the tablecloth/napkins/placemat drawer was open, the spice cabinet was open, and the tea/measuring cup/coffee cabinet were ALL open.

I can only conclude that in order to make coffee, he needed something from all the above cabinets to make said pot of coffee.

It's a male mind that has no clue as to why he does it. I think he does it to annoy me or maybe it's the cat who likes to hide in the cabinets and scare me.

Mad Kitty Game

Today was pretty stressful at work and just plain nuts. I figure there has to be a full moon around or all the loonies decided to descend on us the last day we are at the main office.

So I really don't have anything for you today except this addicting game someone sent me the link to.......

http://www.gamedesign.jp/flash/chatnoir/chatnoir.swf

The object of the game is try to encircle the cat, without letting it get out! Start by clicking on the image then on the light green dots to try and trap it within the dark green dots. Not easy. It's one very very smart puss!!!

New Fangled Gadgets vs Adults

There should be a young person assigned to each adult when they purchase new fangled gadgets.

1st new gadget - okay, it isn't really new since I just got it in March (for those of you who can't figure that out in the old math - that's a mere 4 months ago). The gadget is my Sony 505 Ereader. I have downloaded books every month with no problem. I have made folders in my Windows Explorer for read books and I move books to this folder when I have read them (duh!). I spent 4 hours Sunday looking for new books to read and downloading them. I thought they went to the Sony but I forgot to SYNC. Glad I checked that last night before I left for vacation. (In reality I didn't really check it as much as I was trying to determine which cords went to what gadget so I could remember the right ones to take. So when I plugged the cord into the Sony, it turned on and said I only had 5 books left. I said a few choice words - okay swore but swearing we learned is good. Okay, in reality, I was a truck driver swearing. Now I never would have realized I had forgotten that if I hadn't been looking for the right cord and gadget #2 was messed up too and my great office girl told me what was wrong with it and I thought maybe that was what was wrong with the Sony too. I checked and viola I needed to SYNC it too.

2nd new gadget - still not new since I got it for Christmas (7 months ago using the old math). But in my defense, I have only downloaded once to it. I had transferred all my CD's to it and downloaded a few I wanted. Then I put the instruction book in a nice safe place where I knew I would find it again when I needed it. I misplaced lost can't find where said safe place is so I couldn't find the instructions but I figured I am an adult and I could wing it. Yeah, I winged it. I downloaded new songs and transferred hubs CD's to it....oops forgot to say (if you haven't figured it out yet), I am talking about my IPod. I thought I done did good. I have one of those nifty home docking thingies with an alarm clock too and I went to set it to a particular album I had downloaded and it wasn't there. In fact, there was a lot that wasn't there. Guess I needed the instruction book! Thank goodness for young office employees who said I needed to sync and told me how to do it. Done did it tonight and checked it and viola, synced. That's when I got the idea that maybe the Sony needed sync'd too and viola, it sure did.

3rd new gadget - new cell phone that I had no idea what I got. Daughter came yesterday to pick up the granddoggies and I was so proud and told her that we got new cell phones. She asked me if it was chocolate. I said no - it was some type of blue. She said I got the EnV and I said no, I got the E - n - V phone. Why spell it like that when we all know envy is spelt e - n - v - y? Yeah I am kinda clueless. I didn't know chocolate meant the TYPE of phone, not the color. So I am showing her the phone we got for MIL and said the guy at the store called it the idiot phone because it was so easy to use. Well, I went to show daughter and couldn't figure out how to turn it on. Yep idiot proof for idiots. Today I took the phone to the office and had the young office girl teach me all about my phone.

So I think all new fangled gadgets should come with a young person so us older people can use what we got. Then again maybe they do this on purpose and the cat in the picture says it all.

Day 59 - Honesty

How honest are you if no one is watching? Do you still drive the speed limit? Do you obey the laws? Are you honest with yourself? Are you honest with others?

Everyone has heard the old "Honesty is the best policy". We were preached that from the time we were young. We even told our kids that if they were honest with us, the punishment would not be as bad. In reality honesty creates trust in the minds of ourselves and others.

But can one ever be truly honest with everyone including their own spouse? I believe one can. Honesty is one of the most basic needs and what I call the bedrock in marriage. It is essential for trust, for building compatibility, for creating a way of life that you both enjoy, and for maintaining the feelings of love in marriage.

Why do I bring it up? Because I felt like it. My problem is learning when to be totally honest with someone and when to just shut up.

If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything. ~Mark Twain

A lie may take care of the present, but it has no future. ~Author Unknown

We tell lies when we are afraid... afraid of what we don't know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us. But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger. ~Tad Williams

A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not. ~Ernest Hemingway

Big Foot

We visited the inlaws yesterday. We started with FIL and timed it so that we didn't spend much time with him to overstimulate him yet got to visit with him a bit. He knew all our names including son's name which is a good thing since he hadn't been able to remember names. This is good as it means the new medication which is a patch is working. This is the patch that we put on his back so he won't forget and pull it off. MIL was still a bit upset his short term memory wasn't good and still around the 2-5 minute stage but that will never come back and for right now, he's holding good and not declining. Not bad for a 91 year old! Plus he remembered that his roommate just had his 100th birthday!

But I had to share his conversation with me.
FIL: "That is one big foot you have there".
Me: "Yes it sure is. I have a cast on to my knee". Then I would show him.
FIL: "What happened to you?"
Me: "I fell in Philadelphia almost 2 years ago and just had another surgery".
FIL: "I knew about this?"
Me: "Yes, this was my 3rd surgery".
FIL: "Well, gosh, I am sorry but I don't remember that. Where was I?"
Me: "That's okay, we all forget things". Then I would change the subject.

Only this conversation would continue the same exact way for every 2 minutes of the next 30 minutes.

One of the last conversations I had changed the story to now read:
FIL: "That is one big foot you have there".
Me: "Yes, it is".
FIL: "What happened?"
Me: "I am going to have a baby and will deliver it out my foot".
FIL: "Okay but there is an easier way you know".
Me: "Well, you know me. I like to be different".

I only hope he didn't dream of women having babies out their feet all night long.

Day 57 - Balloon Popped

Ever have something planned and you had all your areas covered and you were all hepped up and kinda excited thinking of doing something.......and then "SHAAABAMMMMMMMMM" it defuses, you plans go up in flames, and your balloon pops?

That was me today.

Wednesday I had called the passport agency to check on my passport. I was told it was still in process. I gave the girl the whole story and what day the county certification was sent plus who signed for it and how long this process was taking. Plus on top of that, they were doing this to someone who just happened to be born to a woman and a man who happened to be a member of the Armed Forces and took advantage of the services provided to men and women who serve their government and used said facilities that are owned by the government. They told me to call back today.

All for a passport.

I was ready to just go on to Toronto. I knew I could get out of the United States. It was just the getting back in that was the problem without a passport. I even made plans to stay in Toronto until the passport agency decided to send me my passport and it could then be overnighted to me.

I was all set to throw a hissy conniption fit.

I had my balloon popped.

I called today. My passport is in the mail.

Now let's see how long Chicago's postal service takes to get it to me.

The Annual Gyno Visit

Okay, I am putting out the warning right now. Although this story isn't graphic, it will give you mental images that might could probably make you feel awkward if you are male or know me in person. But then again, if you know me, you know this could be a whole lot worse. So it's your choice - you can either NOT read it, or read it and laugh, or pretend you didn't read it when you next see me.

Every single one of us are faced with challenges all the time and with things that we know we have to do but don't want to do. Females should be used to the annual gyno visit by the time they are my age. I mean, I have been going to the same man for over 20 years and he has seen parts of me that my husband hasn't. You could say we have a bond. Still doesn't make it easier to go every year so if you are anything like me gosh I hope not but you probably are since we are friends, you put this visit off until the last possible moment.

I had lots of reasons why I didn't really want to go. First I was worried about getting my cast into the stirrup so he could even do the exam. Then there's the fact that my gyno screwed me up big time this year when he didn't let me know what my breast MRI results were, then didn't let me know what the results of the biopsy were, then on top of that, when the insurance company decided they were going to question why I had the MRI to begin with, said gyno's girls told the insurance company I had forged the prescription. I had gotten that cleared up but nary an apology from the office. I was planning on getting a new gyno but with all the foot/ankle and inlaw crap stuff going on, I didn't get a chance until it was too late and I needed my natural hormones refilled. So I figured I would go back this once and after I had the scripts in hand, I would let him have it.

Best laid plans! First off, son wasn't too pleased to know he was taking me to the gyno to begin with (I knew he would fuss pitch a hissy fit protest) but I had already conned sweet talked him into it. He dropped me at the door and took off with tires screeching. I think he was terrified worried he had to go me in with me.

So I took a deep breath and started the long scoot in the building then to his office. I check in. The girl needed a copy of my insurance card and photo ID. Okay I actually carried a purse that day although it was the 1st time in 57 days I have done that. I go to my wallet and there is no drivers license or insurance card. I am trying to remember when I last had them - okay, drivers license when I applied for my passport that has yet to arrive, and okay, my insurance card when I checked into the hospital. Now I told my husband to put them away but knowing him, he threw them in the purse. Yep, I found them at the bottom of the purse although I had already called the office to fax me over a copy of our insurance card.

So far so good. I sit down to wait. The waiting room is a decent temperature - cold for everyone but me. Then I get called in. First is the dreaded scale. The nurse took one look at me and says, I don't think we will do this - just give me your weight. The last time I was weighed was 56 days ago at the hospital so I gave them that weight. Next was the exam room 2 hallways away. I was told to sit until the doctor came in. Now the temperature in the exam rooms was over 100 degrees. In reality it was probably only 80 something but that is enough for me to start hot flashing.

He came in, greeting me like a long lost friend. But I was still nice. I gave him a wet handshake. We chit chatted a bit about my ankle and all the meds I am now on. I gave him my latest test results (his girls are not computer literate). He got up and said to change and he would be back. He laid the oh so fashionable white tissue paper vest that probably fits a 10 year old with mosquito bites for boobs along with that lovely white tissue paper that we are supposed to drape around our waist but it barely covers the front let alone the sides or rear. Hospital gowns offer more coverage.

He leaves and I think, OMG, I was worried so much about how I was going to get the cast into the stirrup that I forgot I had to get naked. Getting naked takes me awhile. Not easy to do. Plus the clothes are sticking to me because I am sweating buckets by now.

The doctor came back and I was still trying to get undressed. He said he would be back. 2nd time he came in, I had just gotten stripped and was standing almost stark naked in the room (I kept on my left foot sock, brace and shoe and of course I had the cast to the knee on the right leg). (I warned you - not a good visual image). He backed out and said he would be back. I put on the tissue paper vest and drape but couldn't get onto the table. Although the vest and drape are made for 10 year olds, the table is tall and clearly made for giants and this shorty could not even begin to crawl up on it with a bum leg in a cast.

So he comes back and I said I needed help getting onto the table which he did get me a stool. I sit and he takes my blood pressure. Then he tells me to lay down and slide forward. Um....I am now sitting on tissue paper on the exam table. I stuck to it so when I slid, said tissue paper came with me.

The doctor figures out what to do with my cast - it went on top of the stirrup. Exam accomplished. Meanwhile, the wee bit of tissue paper that was there covering my top and bottom and beneath me is now disintegrating, being absorbed by my hot flashing.

So once it was over he said go ahead and get dressed and meet him in his office. He did help me down and left. I picked tissue paper off me for the next 30 minutes then got dressed and went to his office. He gave me the scripts for my meds and one for the followup breast MRI to make sure they biopsied the right lump back in January. I made sure I had those in hand, then I let him have it with the office's attitude and his lack of compassion and code of conduct about my exams and accusing me of falsifying a presciption he wrote. He apologized and said it was a new girl. Sorry, not an excuse. I had already asked if there were any new girls and was told no. He apologized again but honestly, all I wanted was out of there. It was hot. I had what I came for. I was done for another year. And it would be a cold day in hell before I went back to him.

.....unless of course I put finding the new doctor off until the last minute again.

Happy Birthday Daughter

Happy Birthday Daughter! From the time you were born, you would only ever shut up if I took you to the mall or if you were listening to the Chipmunks. How thankful your MIL gets you all the Chipmunk stuff forever more :)

Swearing

There is hope for me yet. One vice of mine is now considered healthy.

http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/chi-talk-swearingjul13,0,3030857.story

Swearing can help ease pain, study finds

The next time you hammer your thumb, do what comes naturally: Swear. It won't sound pretty, but colorful expletives may help ease the pain, according to a study in the current issue of NeuroReport, a journal of neuroscience research.

In even the most civilized cultures, people curse out of habit, to let off steam or to shock. Swearing is also a common response to physical pain. But can off-color language actually affect how much an injury hurts?

To find out, researchers at Britain's Keele University asked 64 undergraduates to plunge a hand into a bucket of ice water for as long as possible while invoking either their favorite swear word or a "neutral" term.

Although the researchers suspected that using profanity would increase a person's perception of pain, they found the opposite was true: When people swore, they were able to keep their hands submerged longer than when they didn't, showing increased pain tolerance, researchers said.

One possible explanation is that swearing triggers our natural "flight-or-flight" response, said lead researcher Richard Stephens, a psychology lecturer at Keele University. When they swore, volunteers showed accelerated heart rates, which could indicate an increase in aggression and thus a decreased perception of pain. But swearing definitely sparked an emotional and physical response.

Careful who you swear in front of, though.

-- Julie Deardorff

Maybe I should try it instead of the anti-inflammatories (Naprosyn) which I take 2 tablets twice a day and an occasional 1/2 of a Darvocet N-100 when I just can't take the pain anymore and there isn't anyone around to yell at or punch.

Now I have to find a study for the rest of my vices.

Dreams vs Reality

Have you ever had a dream that you swore was real and had happened? I do rarely but this case happened last Friday.

The time was noon and I had been up since 6:30am with little sleep for 3 nights prior due to working and my ankle not liking being up and walking on it even though it is in a cast. To say I was cranky was probably putting it mildly. One thing hubs promised me was that he would always carry his cell and he made me agree to stay in bed for most of the day Friday to rest my ankle.

I guess I drifted off at one point that morning and woke at noon thinking I was hearing my husband yell at a patient who had called that morning since she was in severe pain. He was telling her that she had been up on it too much and he had told her she had to be non-weight bearing which meant no weight. I swear that happened.

I was pissed at him yelling at the patient so I called him on his cell. The cell started ringing next to the bed. Ok he forgot his cell. He promised me never to be away from his cell if I gave up the foghorn to get his attention. So I called the house phone. Ok he didn't answer that. So I got up and went to the window thinking he was outside chipping with his golf club in the pouring rain in the backyard but he wasn't there. So I yelled calmly called out to him (yeah the neighbors probably heard me) and he didn't answer.

By this time I was really pissed. I got up, threw on a robe, put a shoe on my good foot (which isn't really good since it has been abused by the other one not taking its fair share of everything), and slid down the stairs. I hunted all over the house for him. I was getting really really pissed by then. I went to the garage and there was no car. I am thinking great - I am all alone in the house and no one cares and someone was going to be in deep doo-doo. I called the flower shop next to the office hoping he had the decency to go see the patient at the office but nope - car was not there. I start fuming at the kitchen table. Steam was arisin'.

30 minutes later, he walks in the garage only to be attacked by me yelling at him for what he has been putting me through and that he left me and that he woke me up and that he yelled at the patient. He didn't know what hit him because he had just gotten home from the surgery. In reality he had not been home at all yet.

The real story is that I dreamed it all. I did get a phone call from the patient who I did tell that he would call her back when he got out of surgery. That was probably right before I dozed back off which is why it was on my mind. Pretty realistic dream.

I had to do some major sucking up afterwards to hubs. He kinda got yelled at for a lot. Most times he does deserve it but in this case, it was all in my dreams. Kinda afraid to get this dream analyzed.

Now today is a whole different matter. Now he needs to suck up to me big time.

Handicap Spots

Yesterday after we worked one of the offices, we went to a birthday party for 2 dear girls who are pretty special to me (Happy Birthday K and K)! Afterwards since we were in the town my parents live, we stopped by to see them since we hadn't been there since Mother's Day (too long of a drive and too rough on me to get into their house with way too many steps). We decided to take them to Texas Roadhouse for dinner.

We went to park in a handicap parking spot (I have a temporary placard because of my ankle but my father has one of his own and so does my mother). So basically we have full rights to park in a spot since in our car, of the 4 in it, only my husband was considered a non-handicapped person. 4 other cars pulled into handicap spots around the time it took us to get to the front door. They all beat us to the door, were seated, and had drinks and appetizers before we even got to a table (no - there was no waiting for a table). I didn't see one of them that would have something so threatening that would require their use of a permanent handicap parking placard, let alone a temporary one.

Every time I go out, I see more and more illegal use of handicap parking permits. This type of fraud and abuse has become so commonplace that many state and local places have begun crackdowns. There is even a link on your state's website to report the suspected violation. I know my MIL tried to use my FIL's once and got caught. This was before her strokes this past January - when she could run in the Olympics as a long distance sprinter. She would usually leave me in the dust when I stayed with them after she got her pacemaker. I remember she had asked the doctor for a placard then but was told no because they wanted her to walk. She did finally get her own after she suffered the strokes as she then had a legitimate handicap since she needs a walker now.

So how do people abuse the system? Common abuses according to my state's website are: people using other people’s placards without them in the car (this is what my MIL did), using the placard of a deceased person, or using altered or counterfeit placards, and using the spot while the handicap person stays in the car.

So why the big hoopaloo? I know I get pissed when I enter a parking lot and there are empty 25 places in the handicap area and I have to park a mile away to even find a spot. I know I need the exercise but I just needed to run in for 1 item. The stores should have quickie spots for those shopping under 5 minutes. Have I ever parked in one though? No. Have others? Sure have - I have seen them.

So who is actually turning these violators in? Citizens! Some states have organized citizen patrols (Florida, Georgia, Maryland. Nevada, Nebraska, Ohio, California, Washington, and Tennessee). They are authorized to issue citations to violators on the spot.

Illinois does have a new law that raised the maximum fines for parking in a handicap accessible parking space. The fines have a minimum and maximum depending on the violation. Here is the IL website for private citizens to report violators:
www.ilsos.gov/ContactFormsWeb/disabilitiescomplaintform.html

So who can get a placard? In IL there are temporary placards and permanent placards (note that even though there are permanent placards they have to be renewed every 2 years). The temporary ones are for 3-6 months. I have a 3 month placard. In order to get one, you need to download the application from your state's website, then take said application to your doctor where he will certify and state why you need one and your full extent of your disability. There is also a part for you to fill out either as the disabled person or the driver of the disabled person. In our state, 3 month placards can be obtained at your local township office and in some cases at the DMV. Any placard over 3 months has to be sent to the State of IL. There are also license plates available but truthfully I always advise others to get the placards. The placards can be moved from car to car. The plates are stuck on that one car.

Please remember that one cannot always tell if one is handicapped. But most handicaps are visible - those with a limited ability to walk, a visual handicap, or a debilitating heart or lung condition. You can spot them a mile away as they walk slow or limp or use an assistive device such as a cane or walker or wheelchair. Many of us are not qualified to make an assertion that the other is handicapped. But we can help thwart the offenders by reporting what we think is abuse. The state will check it out. That is actually how they caught my MIL. Her fine was $500.00 and a few words from her 2 sons and me.

Yes, I reported the convertible with 4 teens, the van with a family of 2 kids, the BMW with 2 adults in their 30's, and the 4 door sedan with 4 older adults but no visible handicaps talking about their latest bicycle trip of 60 miles.

Ever Play Chicken?

I am right now. Last year my husband's mother had a pacemaker inserted the weekend of the my parent's reunion so we never made it there but all the food I was volunteered to bring did (one of my sisters picked it up for me).

So I am playing chicken of calling my mom to help plan the weekend. I know I shouldn't but I am. I am just not into a planning, organizing mood. Maybe tomorrow.

Old Thoughts

So are old thoughts a sign of old age?

Who out there has any of my brain cells?

Hubs was up and out early this morning to do a surgery on one of our patients. Of course, he makes no noise so I wasn't disturbed at all and slept peacefully through the ton of elephants and alarms going off (insert eyeroll). So I was up at 6:30am. Yes - me. Yes - it does happen every single time he gets up before me and thus wakes me up. I really think the old time idea of separate bedrooms has some merit. I mean I would get to keep my half of the covers (although I never use them but they are mine so I should be able to even see them). I would be able to sleep a full 6-8 hours instead of in spurts. I am sure there are more but can't think of any (getting up that early must have something to do with it). ***sigh***

I regress. It's those missing brain cells that are full of old thoughts I am telling you. So the purpose of today's post is about old thoughts. You know, those thoughts you considered way super important and wrote said thought down on something (in my case it's a post-it note since I am queen of the post-it notes). But you lose said note and can't remember what you were trying to remember. Or maybe didn't even write it down and now can't remember what you were thinking about or going to say or do. Or you write something down on the note, can't find it again, then maybe a year or more (in my case it could be even be a day) you find said note but now you try to figure out what the cryptic mess you have written down means.

I have no clue on one note. I should try to remember dating them so I know if it is important and maybe that would spark a flicker of memory. But this one note in question consists of 2 letters and 4 numbers. My thought was a license plate number but it wasn't mine. Whose it is, I have no clue. Why I wrote it down I have no clue. Why I kept it I have no clue. What it means I have no clue. The memory must be in that brain cell that went ***WHOOSH***

So if anyone finds that brain cell that had that old thought and all the reasons, please call me. Actually I am missing quite a few as I age. It's really starting to bug me now and so much that while I was composing a letter to the United States Department of State, Passport Agency, to get my passport with my newly certified certificate from the county I was born in, I was telling them about the note.

I think I got up too early.

Vibrating Mascara

Yep you read that right. Maybelline just released it.

http://www.maybelline.com/Product/Eye/Mascara/Pulse-Perfection-Define-A-Line.htm

I have no words except *snicker, snicker, snort, snort, cough, gasp, breathe, snicker, snort*. OMG I have to go to the bathroom.

My imagination runs wild.... did anyone go gutter surfing with me?

Think maybe it's delivered in a brown bag?

OMG I have to stop..........

123456789 Day

Yep, it's 123456789 Day. Exciting, right?

For the digitally inclined, Wednesday marks a cool spot in sequential history. At exactly 12:34:56, the time and date will be 12:34:56 7/08/09. That only happens once or twice every 100 years. It actually happened twice today (12:34:56 am 7/8/09 and 12:34:56 pm 7/08/09) if you want to get real technical.

So for all of you who need a reason to drink or celebrate - here it is. Have fun and be good and don't name it after me :)

Frustration

Today's topic is frustration. Why you ask? Because that has been my day. Ever go into work with the best of intentions and a plan of what you wanted to get done that day? I did. I had a list of what I wanted to get done and had even itemized each task with its importance and in what order they were going to be done. There were 20 items on said list. I got 2 done. But somehow another 20 or so things got added to said list and bumped the order to smithereens.

So how do you cope with frustration? Are you a Type A personality and blow or do you just hold it in?

I actually alternate, depending on the situation, the person, and the circumstances. There are some things you just have to toss over your shoulder and let go. There are others that make me erupt. Lately one huge frustration I have is the attitude of TV media and CNN and all news. I hate this political division we are still seeing. Sorry and although I am and will always be impressed by Michael Jackson as a musician, why do I have to be confronted with him as the topic of everyone for a while now and probably a while to come.

After all, some of us are celebrating a new life or moaning a loss of a loved one, or just coping with the normal day to day life and business. Is the media then there to distract us? Lately all it does is piss me off.

I leave you with a few of my favorite frustration quotes:

“Forget your enemies. It's your friends you frustrate that cause all the problems.” ~ Anonymous

“Our frustration is greater when we have much and want more than when we have nothing and want some. We are less dissatisfied when we lack many things than when we seem to lack but one thing.” ~ Eric Hoffer

“Life is not an easy matter... You cannot live through it without falling into frustration and cynicism unless you have before you a great idea which raises you above personal misery, above weakness, above all kinds of perfidy and baseness.” ~ Leon Trotsky

“No matter how discouraged we get, God has not asked us to do the impossible” ~ George Grace

"I've come to believe that all my past failure and frustration were actually laying the foundation for the understandings that have created the new level of living I now enjoy" ~ Anthony Robbins

“Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion . . . . I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward.” ~ Kurt Vonnegut Jr

Back in a Cast

Well, the MRI results are in. I have a whole lot of inflammation still in the ankle and the joints - more than I should at 6 and 1/2 weeks postop. So I got a cortisone shot in the joint of the ankle near the back where most of the inflammation seemed to be. Interestingly enough, my doctor did it under fluoroscopic unit guidance so he could place the medicine at the right place. As soon as the medicine started going in, I felt that same sharp pain that I have felt whenever I am walking on the foot and ankle and the initial pain I felt when I fell. He put Lidocaine into the ankle joint too so after he had me stand on the foot. It was a miracle because that pain had disappeared (it has been a constant sharp pain since I started walking on it again a week and half ago). That was why I had the MRI.

So the diagnosis is that the syndesmotic injury I had sustained has never totally healed which is what was giving me the feeling that my ankle was going to give out on me and was contributing to the instability of the whole ankle joint. So mid August or September I have to set up a date to have that repair. I do have another bone chip but they aren't concerned about it as the MRI showed it not to be in the joint or moving or touching any vital parts. My body should just absorb it.

I am just happy they found that pain I had been having as it was hard to describe and would go away if I sat down and has been hard to find on any test (it was blocked by prior MRI's and the CT scan because the screws would distort the picture in that area). This MRI showed it had not completely healed, then the injection hit the spot and we finally recreated the pain. Voila - a diagnosis.

I was then casted to the knee and this cast will be on for another 2 weeks and then the doctor will re-evaluate. I leave for Toronto then probably still in a cast - that is if I get a passport since it still hasn't arrived yet although my husband got his over 3 weeks ago. I guess that's what one gets for being born on an Air Force Base and thus have a government issued birth certificate and not a county or state like other people.

Nothing is ever simple with me.

Hope

What is hope? As a friend, how can we offer another hope? Better yet, what can our friends or any of us do to find hope? Where do we turn when tomorrow offers no happy promises?

Some turn to vices like smoking or drinking in times of stress. Others turn to religion. I decided to see exactly how many Christians there are in the United States and was kinda surprised at how high the number was: 173,402 of 216,367 surveyed by the American Religious Identification Survey (ARIS) in 2008. So this survey shows there is a high number of Christians in the United States. If this is true, then why do we still look for help and hope?

According to Wikipedia, "hope is a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life. Hope is the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best".

This was also the topic in today's sermon at our church. The pastor tells us to turn to Psalm 103: 1-14. In the middle of trouble, acknowledging God’s role in our lives can redirect our thinking from the hurts of our hearts and force us to dwell instead on the greatness of our God. In Psalm 103, David lists reasons to turn our attention to God, who gives us many benefits: He forgives us, heals us, redeems us, crowns us with love and compassion, satisfies our desires, and renews us. David reminds us that God provides justice and righteousness, and He is gracious and loving. Therefore by praising God's greatness, we put hope in our troubled hearts.

While personally I turn to my faith, I find hope in my own religious belief system and that hope is not always what we might want to hear or accept.

So what do I say to friends who ask us to help them? Be there. Comfort them. Pray for them. Let them talk and let them hope that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best. After all, hope is an individual feeling.

Happy 4th of July!

Have a safe and happy 4th! Happy Birthday to one of my nieces and one of my sisters.

I don't know if we will make it to the fireworks today or not - down to a light rain with temps at 68 degrees. If the rain stops and we do make it, we will stay in the car to watch them so I don't have to fuss with the scooter and all.

Please please be safe around fireworks. I remember being an ER nurse on the 4th. The most common fireworks injuries involve the hands, fingers, eyes, head, and face. Some of these injuries are severe, resulting in permanent health problems such as missing fingers and limbs and vision loss. I would post pictures but would gross too many of you out.

Toilet Seats

I am willing to bet you all are thinking that I certifiable now. I mean I am still counting the days of not being able to walk to do anything. Then on top of that I have been posting the craziest things. I mean who talks about toilet seats?

I do. Especially when I fall into the toilet at least once a day because SOMEONE in our house "forgets" to put the seat down (not mentioning names but there are only 3 humans in this house and only one other person shares a bathroom with me). I am beginning to think he is sadistically enjoying hearing the splashing I make because he goes into his cackles whenever he hears the splash.

So I offer a logical rebuttal (no pun intended).

First and foremost - the logistics: a toilet seat is a hinged unit consisting of seat and lid which is bolted onto a toilet bowl for a flush toilet. A toilet seat consists of the seat itself, which is contoured for the user to sit on, and the lid, which covers the toilet when it is not in use. Why make a toilet seat like this if it was not going to be used properly?

So let's consider statistics: Females generally do not raise the seat for anything but cleaning, while males use it both ways. BUT the statistical analysis on how many times it is used in the lower position is 63%, therefore the seat should be left down the other 27% of the time. Clearly when considering the statistics, the normal state of the toilet seat is down. Therefore the work of putting the seat up and down should be that of the man who is the one taking the toilet seat out of it’s natural state.

Now let's consider aesthetics: a toilet is not the most attractive household appliance. Closing the lid improves its appearance and prevents things from falling into the water (like me). If the lid was not meant to be closed, then what is its purpose and why was it made?

Now let's consider the real world of what happens when said seat is in the wrong position. If the seat was down when a male does one of his functions, a wet seat results. Unpleasant and poor manners but not life threatening. However, if a female SPLASHES, repercussions will result. Of this I have great knowledge. Have you ever tried to hop on one leg using crutches, pull down your pants while carefully practicing the balance act, then lower yourself to the toilet, only to go SPLASH? So we can postulate that the seat not in the down position is a whole lot more serious.

Now let's consider what happens if the toilet seat is up and you dare to flush: did you know the spray from the toilet bowl can land several feet away? This fine spray unseen by the naked eye contains a whole lot of bacteria and viruses which can survive for hours or days and will make you sick. If you flush an average of just 5 times a day for over 1 person in the house, that means in our house, the floor and walls and everything within 6 feet will be covered in raw sewage by the end of the day. And who wants to clean the bathroom and toilet more than once a week?

In conclusion, one does not need to be told that all the criteria has been met and the toilet seat should be in the down position. For an added benefit, all males would then please the female and might - just might - not piss her off any more than the male already does.

I rest my case.

Social Security Numbers vs Brain Farts

I have this problem. My husband's social security number, tax ID's, driver's license, medical license, DEA number - you name it I can rattle them off at the drop of a hat.

My info - another matter all together.

Today I was checking on the status of my passport application online. The form called for the last 4 digits of your social security number. Couldn't remember mine for the life of me and on the off chance I do remember it, I have to mentally say all the numbers to get the last 4.

How many of you can rattle off 4 obscure numbers like that? Why can't they do the 1st 4? Are the 1st 4 numbers banned or do they deliberately make it difficult for us?

How many of you even know that there are parts to a social security number? The SS# is a 9 digit number divided into 3 parts.

The 1st part is the 1st 3 digits and represent a geographical area. Before 1973. that geographical area meant the area where you first applied for your number. Since 1973 the Social Security Administration began assigning numbers based on the zip code of your mailing address on the application for the card. Generally the people who live on the east coast had the lowest numbers and the people who lived on the west coast had the highest numbers.

The middle two digits are the group number. These numbers have no special meaning; however they are assigned in a special way. The group numbers range from 01 to 99 but they are not assigned in consecutive order. For administrative reasons, group numbers are issued in the following order:
1.ODD numbers from 01 through 09
2.EVEN numbers from 10 through 98
3.EVEN numbers from 02 through 08
4.ODD numbers from 11 through 99
As an example, group number 98 will be issued before 11.

The last four digits are serial numbers. They represent a straight numerical sequence of digits from 0001-9999 within the group.

Now brain farts are a spontaneous stupid (stupid the noun, not stupid the adjective) usually accompanied by loss of train of thought and saying something fantastically stupid without realising it. These I am proficient in.

Brown Paper Bags

Today was supposed to be a brown paper bag day - containing a special present for a special person. It got postponed for a week because my foot went nuts after my MRI today. Said friend is a wee bit afraid of what is in the brown paper bag but then again I have teased her just a little bit about what could be in said bag. My friends know that with me said present could be just about anything.

For some people brown paper bags conjure up all sorts of evil mysterious things. For me, they remind me of the olden days when we would have to use a brown grocery bag as a book cover or they would hold my lunch for school. They became nefarious in the early 1900's when they were used as a color litmus test to see if you would be admitted into a party or restaurant, etc. The idea was that one had to be lighter than the paper bag in order to enter.

But did you know that the humble brown paper bag is actually a technological masterpiece that solves many practical problems? Neither did I until I did some research. But if you think about it, unlike a plastic bag, it can stand upright by itself. Plus you don't need an extra hand to hold it open while you fill it. And it has the added bonus that it folds flat for easy storage. It actually took inventors years to come up with a design that would behave this way. Early paper bags had "envelope bottoms" and wouldn't stand up at all. Then in 1867 Margaret Knight invented a machine that could make the standard bag's rectangular "satchel bottom" in a series of three folds. Another inventor added the accordion folds on the sides of the bag.

Today, paper bags have an infinite number of uses. They are used to carry groceries, they are recycled and used to store garbage. They are also used to stuff things in them to carry said items somewhere else. Since they are not transparent, they are used to conceal items from others, like being used as wrapping paper to conceal gifts.

If you are really crafty you can give them to your kids and make homemade masks out of them, or puppets. I remember my brother used to think it a riot to blow a small lunch bag up then smack it and surprise the beejeebees out of me. If you put one upside down on your head, they make an excellent costume. They can be drawn on, colored, penciled, cut, shaped into origami figures, or anything your imagination will take you. My cats loved them and my kids loved to tap the top when they ventured in, making the cat jump and the bag move.

They can also be used in the kitchen - if you place green tomatoes in a paper bag and roll the top down, the tomatoes will ripen. They make it easy to remove candle wax from a rug or carpet - just scrape up as much as you can, then place the paper bag over the wax and run a warm iron over it. The wax will melt and the bag will absorb it. I use paper bags to make patterns too, especially patterns I love since the tissue paper patterns seem to not last long.

My FIL used to cut shapes and designs out of the upper sides of the paper bags. Then he would put sand in the bottom of the bag and place a candle in each. Set the bags (luminaries) outside and light the candle. This was a Christmas eve tradition my kids love. We would take bets on how many bag fires we would have!

But my friend seems to think I have an ulterior motive. Maybe I do. After all, typically brown paper bags conceal contraband—alcohol and pornographic magazines and material.

She won't know until she opens her bag next week.