no, angelina, don't.

let's just, for the sake of indulging my ridiculous argument, look at this another way:


let's say there's value in suffering. let's say that it is, if not only, then mostly  through suffering that we grow and learn AND (gasp!) become more like what God wants us to be. 

let's say that managing suffering, once it comes along (as surely it will), is right-minded and avoiding suffering, which is to say, avoiding living, is wrong-minded.

let's say that observing others facing the pain - not dodging it - is the best example of all -  to children and the rest of us -  of how to take on this formidable thing called "life" - and to come out stronger for it.

let's just say that someone told me 4 years ago that my husband was going to leave me - poof! - out of the blue and in so doing, burn my life to the ground. and let's say the someone who told me this gave me a choice: bail on him - now -  (in an effort to avoid the pain) - or wait - and take your licks (even though you surely don't deserve them).

let's not just say that in taking door #2 maybe i would have become more like what God wants me to be.


let's say, i did.

kids are germy

everybody always says that kids are germy. and that if you want to build up your resistance, you should work around kids.

excuse me?

kids aren't germy. adults are germy! you should see our staff bathroom! (and probably your staff bathroom, too!)

and speaking of the staff bathroom, apparently adults aren't too good about washing their hands because if they were, you wouldn't see those "employees must wash hands before returning to work" signs everywhere you go. i mean, think. about. it. if every dang fool restaurant in this country has to hang a sign to remind its employees - who work with food - to wash their hands, then what do you think is happening at home depot? makes me shudder to think about it.

kids aren't germy. and if they are, it's because the adults around them are.

we have hand sanitizer machines dang near every five feet where i work. i have practically never seen the adults use them, but the kids use them all. the. time. now......granted......the kids usually have to be reminded to use them - by an adult - but, so, picture this: the adult tells the kid to use the hand sanitizer machine and the kid does. while the adult stands there and watches. and you're gonna go tell me that kids are germy???????

if kids were as germy as everybody keeps saying they are and if being around them builds immunity, i would hardly ever be sick. because i have 5 little grandchildren and i work with kids. and i have worked with kids all my life. and i am always. sick. including now, for instance.

think i'll go buy some hand sanitizer and stare at it.

what's wrong with me?

what's wrong with me is what's wrong with everybody - sin.


what's wrong with me is, i'm having chest pain. or maybe discomfort is a better word. chest pain slash discomfort. my chest feels funny, ok?

i don't think i am having a heart attack. if i thought that, i wouldn't be typing this. i do think i need to see a doctor. and i am waiting to hear from mine so that he can determine if i need to go the e.r. or just come see him or what.

(so, what does any of this have to do with sin? plenty.)

i am likely having chest pain slash discomfort due to personal stress. the personal stress is being caused by another human being. the other human being is a sinner. because, really, what other type of human being is there?

if human beings weren't sinners, we wouldn't have any chest pain. or discomfort. or slash discomfort. not only would we not have anyone mistreating us and thereby causing our chest to hurt, we wouldn't have anything called high cholesterol and plaque and arteries that get all clogged up. 

and we wouldn't have anything called diabetes. or cancer. or even a cold.

we wouldn't have people going into debt. or houses getting broken into. or hurricanes or floods. or stupid ass humidity! 


we wouldn't have an.y.thing. bad. were it not for sin. sin brought down the whole shootin' match.

but nobody wants to believe it.


so, when i go to the doctor or the e.r. (or maybe both......what would that be called? the doctor slash e.r.?)......when i go to the doctor slash e.r. today and they ask me why i'm there and i say, "because you guys are sinners," 


don't be surprised if they have a heart attack.

how many chairs do you have around your dining table?

every Lent for i don't know how many Lents now, catholic relief services has sponsored "operation rice bowl" as an opportunity for charitable giving to people in various forms of need throughout the world, including here in the u.s. i love "operation rice bowl." here's why:

• "operation rice bowl" is clever. for example, they'll ask you to give to the hungry of the world by donating "x" amount of money for each dining table chair you have in your house. 
• they'll ask you to donate "y" amount of money for every faucet you have in your house - inside and out - as a way of helping folks who don't have any running water.
• you might want to give "z" amount for every grade of schooling you have completed so that catholic relief services can build schools in places (plenty) that don't have schools.

the other thing i love about "operation rice bowl" is, and i know half of you are gonna hate for me this but oh well, the other thing i like about "operation rice bowl" is that i donate the money in this little box and turn it into my church at the end of Lent (also known as the day i can finally eat pasta again!) and never see the first receipt. 

i love donating without getting receipts and then not turning around next year and asking uncle sam to donate back to me. 

i just think that's how charitable giving always ought to be.


i also just think i ought to find out how many Lents catholic relief services has been sponsoring "operation rice bowl" and  give "x, y, and z" for each one.

what happened to the rest of the vitamins?

why do we have vitamins a, b, c, d, and e and then nothing till k and then nothing after that? i mean, i would think the alphabet would have unionized by now and outlawed such discrimination.


i had to drag myself to the pharmacy today for some cold meds and while i was there, i decided to re-load my vitamin c supply. as i stood in front of the myriad of vitamins swirling in front of my bleary eyes, it dawned on me that more than half the alphabet got the shaft. sup with that?

i can sorta see why we don't have a vitamin f cuz just imagine all the jokes that would come from that. but why not, for instance, a vitamin s? i think the very words "vitamin s" have a wonderful ring to them and make a person feel better immediately just hearing them.

vitamin p would probably be the brunt of too many worn-out jokes, too, but what about t? vitamin t sounds like chamomile and rose hips all rolled into one. chamomile and rose hips surely ought to cure a cold.............right?


i think the reason i get sick so much is because i like to write and half the alphabet is left out of my system.

learn to draw (or learn to get well).

waaaaaaay back in the day, there was a t.v. show called, "john nagy: learn to draw." the idea was, you'd tune in to his half hour show not being able to draw anything except flies (get it? draw flies?) and by the end of the show, you'd be rembrandt. or at least john nagy.

well, once again, i am not feeling well (i need to donate my immune system to science. why not? i don't seem to be using it anyway.....) and once again, i find myself flat on my back on the couch, channel surfing. (sidebar here: i can't draw and i can't surf, but i can channel surf. we all have our talents.)

so, anyway, i am channel surfing and i come across a guy with a HUGE afro and his shirt tucked into his dad jeans and he's gearing up to paint a picture. i lift my finger from the "next channel" button to get a second look. is that john nagy????

no. it's not. it's bob ross. whoever bob ross is.

so, anyway, i toss the remote on the coffee table and settle in to see what Big Fro Bob is gonna paint.

it. was. a. ma. zing., people. A. MA. ZING.

in about twenty minutes time, he painted a complete picture, worthy of hanging. 20 minutes! how can you paint a complete picture, worthy of hanging, in 20 minutes? or even not worthy of hanging?????

what he painted was a winter scene, or as we in the trade call it, "landscape." it freaked me out how fast and how well he did this. it was like, ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom, here's your gorgeous winter day in the woods. done.

the whole thing blew my mind but i think the part i liked best was how he painted pine trees. i wish i could explain his technique, but i can't. basically though, visualize him saying to the painting, "pine trees......appear!" and they did. it was that magical.

now, bob ross's painting taste doesn't happen to suit my taste, but his talent is unmistakable. and i sure never knew that painters could paint that fast.


now, if he would just paint a picture of me getting well..........


fast.

if you're lucky, this will happen to you.

(my son-in-law, eli bowman, wrote this. about himself. about all of us....... if we're lucky.)


Here's the truth about your health. It can be taken away from you before you even know it. You can be doing all kinds of things right and all kinds of things wrong, but somewhere down the line you are likely to get some kind of curveball. That curveball may vary in severity, but it catches you off guard just the same. I got a curveball today, AND an MRI. 3 bulging discs pressing on nerves and 2 degenerative discs to go along with arthritis in my spine. I can't pick up my babies on my own, my already exhausted wife is working twice as hard now while I'm home to make up for some of the things I can't do and won't be able to do for awhile, and I can't play around with the twins the same way as before. There are lots of things I just "can't" do anymore. I ultimately have two options. The first would be to feel sorry for myself and to bring that self-pity into my physical therapy sessions where it would lessen the effectiveness of the treatment. Then I could go home and bring that depression into my home and burden my family with it. This would make the next several months terrible for anyone I loved and cared about. They would have to watch me suffer through painful therapy while defeated emotionally because I'm thinking that my youth has just left the building. I could do that to them and myself. I could choose to be a shell of a man for 7-12 months...or I could take option two, which is to put on the armor, apply the war paint, yell for someone to beat the drum, and march head on into this thing while looking it straight in the face and yelling "You and I both know that I am going to beat you!". So I choose to be the one who gains the upper hand. I choose to take my health seriously, and forsake the habits that only lead to less years with my grandchildren. I choose to listen to all the doctors and do EXACTLY as they say, to the letter, without shortcuts, even if alone. I choose to wear my back brace at work, because it means that I care more about being around for my family than I do about what Jane Doe in Underwriting thinks about the way it looks. I choose to play with my kids, even if it means standing up or sitting down in a chair instead of rolling around on the floor. I choose to be as helpful as possible to my sweet wife, even if that means she has to hand me a baby while I'm standing by the changing table so I can change a diaper JUST to hand them back to Mommy so she can lay them to bed. I choose to have a healthy back again. So let's draw out our war plans, Docs, and rally the troops. Tell them it will be a painful battle that will last for months or possibly even years. Tell them that they're fighting for the greatest cause one can fight for...love. Give them the war paint...now give it to me...and let's go win my back...back!

surprising things about the NICU

when the nurse was asked by me if this is a stressful job, she smiled (sincerely), and said, "no."

you can move those babies around easier than you'd think, even with all those wires.

all those wires keep getting tangled up. (ok, so not exactly surprising)

no, charlie, all the babies in here aren't ours. (it just feels that way.)

no, charlie, if you push on this little thingamajig right here on luke's tummy, he does not get up and walk around. or throw a football.

they let little kids in there. (but they don't let little kids in the regular nursery. or adults, either. not even mom and dad.)

they take little kids' temps before they let them in there - for infection control purposes. but they don't take adults' temps. why not?

apparently, an adult with a temp is less dangerous than a kid with one.

who knew?

does clorox work on allergies?

well, we're about to find out!


allergy season is in full-swing here in central ohio, aka the corn belt, the rust belt, and the allergy belt. me? personally? i would like to come after this state with a belt.

but, anyway, my allergies are about to send me to the nuthouse. but instead of going to the nuthouse, i am going to go to abby and eli's house. to-day. to clean. to clean from top to bottom, in advance of abby's return home on monday. not to be confused with her leaving home on friday. (you need to pay better attention.)


so, anyway.......i am going to clean from top to bottom (but no bottoms, eli. you're still on duty for that, dude. sorry.), and i am going to try to do it with my eyes closed because it is impossible to sneeze and keep your eyes open at the same time.

and i am going to try to do it with my throat all half-swollen shut and red and itchy. which actually might not be such a problem because who needs a throat to clean house? i mean, you need one, but you don't need need one.

and, on top of everything else, i am going to do all of this - top to bottom - with absolutely no alcohol (because it's against abby and eli's religion. no, i mean, literally. it is). except for what i might be able to find in the cleaning solvents.

JUST KIDDING!

(sort of.)


ahhhhh-choooo!

"hold your cards up - i can see 'em."

abby's doctor, jason melillo, is on call this weekend and so he offered to drop by abby's room in the hospital and help her pass the time by playing cards.

i doubt that they teach this in medical school.

but they should.

they should teach doctors to wear red clown noses - just like robin williams did in patch adams.

they should teach 'em to care less about whatever body part(s) they specialize in and more about what's your favorite color and if you had a license plate frame saying, "i'd rather be doing something or other," what would your something or other be?

it'd be a better world if every doctor was patch adams. i mean, if every doctor was jason melillo.

it's funny, though - dr. melillo, the ob/gyn, says, "hold your cards up.......i can see 'em." to a patient who's shown him damned near everything.

actually.................everything.

the hospital gift shop

hospital gift shops are getting better all the time. you can find some good stuff in there!

the hospital that abby is in has at least 2 gift shops - maybe more. it's a big place, so probably more. but i am content to hang out in the 2 that i know about - the main one and the maternity/baby one.

the primary difference between the main one and the maternity/baby one is that the main one doesn't sell breast pumps. you gotta love a gift shop that doesn't sell breast pumps.

but both gift shops have baby clothes and when i say "baby clothes" i mean "baby clothes with ohio state crap written all over 'em."

look, no, i am probably not the biggest fan of the university of michigan, either, but really........do we need to put innocent little newborns in onesies that say, "poop on michigan?" i mean, there's plenty of time to corrupt these kids.......do we really have to start the second they're born?????

both the main and the maternity/baby gift shops have a buncha vera bradley stuff. personally, i don't like vera bradley stuff but if you do, i'll still be your friend. i won't hold your vera bradley purse for you while you try on gift shop pashminas, but i will still be your friend.


vera bradley diaper bags are to die for, though.

pizza, cervixes that need sewn shut, murphy and goode wine, and the twins. and that's about it.

i am going to order a pizza for dinner.

abby had her cervix sewn shut today so the triplets won't be born too early.

even the thought of abby's sewn-shut cervix does not diminish my appetite for pizza.

i also bought a bottle of 2007 murphy-goode cabernet to wash down the pizza. i really don't care about the murphy part, just the good(e) part.

charlie and oliva are so confused and bewildered by what's going on with their mother who is on bed rest and their family that's changing and all the weirdness that's going on in their lives with 3 more babies on the way that even though everyone says they are "resilient" and they will "rebound," i'm gonna save them some pizza -  just in case.

if the wine turns out to be more murphy than good(e), i might even save 'em some of that.

i'm just a little worried, that's all. because he's my dad, that's why.

7 years ago this month, my dad had cardiac bypass and valve replacement surgery. he's been fit as a fiddle ever since.

lately, he's been getting very fatigued after he does something strenuous, like, for example, work out at the gym which, despite being almost 84-years old, he does 3 times a week. as does my mom.

he's also been having chest pressure (not pain) following exertion.

his cardiac doctor thought he might need a stent or something like that and so, in order to find out for sure, dad had a heart cath a coupla weeks ago. everything looked great, they said. no problems. none. what. so. ever.

which is, obviously, great news.

but it doesn't explain why he's still getting fatigued after doing things like exercising or walking around the block or going up a ladder and coming right back down.

and it doesn't explain why, for the first time in his life, he had to take a nitroglycerin pill a coupla days ago because the chest "pressure" was "too much."

as we were having lunch together today, my dad and mom were telling me what's next, from a diagnostic standpoint. he's scheduled to see his regular doctor on wednesday and, "we'll take it from there," dad said.

"have you ever gotten fatigued or had chest pressure or anything at all after just normal activities - like what we're doing right now -  or is it always after something strenuous, " i asked, (as if i'd just graduated from vanderbilt medical school or something).

"no," my dad and mom said in unison, "only after something strenuous."

"well, that's good. i guess, " i said.  and they said, "yeah, that's good. i guess."


after lunch, we drove over to a hip little bakery for coffee and dessert.

we weren't there long.

"i'm beat," my dad said.

i looked at my mom. she looked at me.

"whaddya mean you're beat?" we asked.

"i mean i'm tired," he sorta snapped. "i mean, come on, donna, let's go!"


we got up, abruptly, and left.



"let me drive, don," my mom said.

"i can drive!" my dad said, in the macho kind of tone of voice that men his age often use. i mean, in the macho kind of tone of voice that men often use.

"donald! let. me. drive!" she said again, but she knew darned good and well - as did i - that she wasn't gonna win this argument. no sense trying. if my dad was gonna have a heart attack, my mom would only bring it on sooner by arguing with him.

they dropped me off at my door and as i got out of the car i said, "dad, don't be stupid, ok? you bossed me around for a bajillion years, now it's my turn. go to the doctor sooner than wednesday. please? for me?"

"yeah, yeah," he said, as they drove off into the sunset. i could see my mom shaking her head, as if to say, "you can't tell that man anything. you can't tell him anything."

after they left, i was talking to abby and i told her about my dad - her grandpa. her beloved grandpa.

"maybe i should call him, mom," she said. "do you think if i call him, he'd listen?"

"nah," i said. "he wouldn't listen if God called him! mattera fact........if God came down here right this minute and said to him, "listen here, donald wilson rankin, get your be-hind to the e.r. this instant," dad would look at God like he was some kind of alien or something and he'd probably say, "who do you think you are? you're no doctor!"

"besides, " i told abby, "we may not agree with his decision, but he has the right to make it. he's of sound mind. he deserves the dignity of not having us telling him how to run his life."

but i'm just a little worried, that's all.

because he's my dad, that's why.


and i love him.

why whole grains do not make a person happy

first of all, they have the word "grains" in them. when was the word "grains" ever used nicely?

people go "against" the grain and photos that aren't clear are described as "grainy."

quick, right off the top of your head, who would you rather marry......a grain operator or a surgeon?

so, as you can see, nothing good ever comes from grains.

(which is why i am having pizza - without the crust - for breakfast.)

:)

the month of green

march is the month of green, and i like that.

it's green because of st. patrick's day and it's green because new life first begins to appear.

it's green all the other months of the year, too.....now that "going green" is such a big deal. but no month will ever be greener than march.

march is green.

i was thinking about that this morning when i blew my nose. if you get my drift.

:)

(re)marks on a health care system

there's something wrong when the patient isn't the priority. period.

when efficiency is the priority or convenience (for the provider) is the priority or revenue is the priority, that's wrong.

probably nobody would argue that.

but we all accept it.


well, i did my part to un-accept it this week:


i got hit with the flu, bronchitis, and a sinus infection all at once. it started on monday morning. i woke up, fully intending to go to work that day, got out of bed and was like, whoa, nellie!

i was so sick. i was awful. i could barely scrape myself back into the bed and then get out again when i had to.

i was sick. and i needed a doctor.

so i called my pcp and made an appointment for 3.30 that day. how i was gonna get myself there, i had no idea. turns out, i didn't get myself there. i couldn't get myself there. even if someone had driven me, i couldn't have done it. i could. not. do. all. the. things. a. person. needs. to. do. to. get. out. of. bed. and. get. ready. to. go. to. the. doctor.

 i couldn't do it. period.

so, around noon, when it became apparent that there was no way i was going to the doctor, i called them and told them there was no way i was going to the doctor. i cancelled the 3.30 appointment and let it go at that. i didn't know what i was going to do, but for now, i was going back to sleep.

later that afternoon, i managed to call the doctor back. i realized i had to see him eventually - no, not eventually - soon. just not today.

i asked for an appointment on tuesday. nope, doctor's booked.

wednesday?

booked.

look, i said, i am incredibly, acutely ill, and i am a long time patient of dr. fill- in-the-blank. please. surely you can squeeze me in somewhere.

"dr. fill-in-the-blank has nothing available until thursday at 11.15."

please.

"nope. sorry. you shouldn't've cancelled your 3.30."

ma'am, i had no choice but to cancel. i can't get out of the bed! i am sick beyond belief!

"if you're sick beyond belief, you shouldn't have cancelled your 3.30."

ok, look. what about this? can dr. fill-in-the-blank phone me in an antibiotic? he knows my health history like the back of his hand. i've been seeing him since 1985. i get bronchitis all the time, and i am sure i have it now. please?"

"nope. can't call antibiotics in without being seen. practice policy."

ok.....ok......so, no shot at a house call, huh?

"hrmpfh!"

ok, well........i don't know what to do. i don't know what to do. i am sick as a dog and i need a doctor but i can't get myself to a doctor. i don't know what to do."

"you shouldn't have cancelled your 3.30."



a few minutes later, i called back.

i would like to leave a message to have dr. fill-in-the-blank call me, please.

"a message?"

yes. a message.

"dr. fill-in-the-blank is busy all day, back to back, with patients."

i understand. he can call me whenever. either between patients or later this evening after he has gotten home. whatever.

"dr. fill-in-the-blank is busy."

i know that! i get that! tell him he can call me whenever it suits him!

"i'll give him the message."

thank you.


a few minutes later, she calls back.

"nancy?"

yes.

"i told dr. fill-in-the-blank that you want him to call you but he said you'll have to make an appointment."


so, long story short? i ended up on tuesday afternoon at one of cvs's minute clinics. then, on thursday, as encouraged by the nurse practitioner at cvs, i kept the 11.15 appointment with dr. fill-in-the-blank.

i had decided before i went in there that i was gonna fire him. not just for this reason.......there have been other issues over the years.......but i'll be damned if i will be dismissed like this, by a doctor who has benefited from my money for over 25 years. i will be damned.

so, i knew i was gonna fire him, but i wasn't gonna do it before he checked me out and gave me a script or two. then i was gonna lay it on him.

except......i got a little side-tracked.

his office is converting to paperless, so he had this nifty little laptop with him. he was struggling to use it and i could tell he was exasperated. i asked him how it's goin' with all the new technology.

"awful," he said. "awful."

yeah, i said, i can relate. i'm havin' trouble at work, too, with all the new do-dads and gadgets they want us to use.

"it slows me down!" he said. "it slows me down, and i can't see as many patients as before!"

i hear ya, i said. i'm havin' the same problem. i hate it. i hear ya.

"first of all, buying all this equipment cost us a lot of money. and then, we had to hire someone to help us get it all set up and to train us. that was money we couldn't afford. and now, on top of it all, i can't see as many patients! which means......"

(at this point i was thinking, i know what he means. he means that, damn, this isn't why he went into medicine in the first place. this isn't why i went into social work! he went into medicine to help people, just like i went into social work to help people. and now, here comes all this high-falutin' technology to mess it all up.) i knew what he was thinking. i knew.

"...and now, on top of it all, i can't see as many patients! which means......i can't make as much money!"

BAM.

WOW.

FIRED.

SOOOOOOOOOO FIRED.


so much for "first, do no harm."

michelle obama and her food thing

ok, look. i don't really have a problem with it if michelle obama wants everybody (except her and her family on super bowl sunday) to eat right.

i don't blame her for not eating right on super bowl sunday. who eats right on super bowl sunday?

i also don't really have a problem with her trying to get american restaurants to be less american but i do have a problem with the american government trying to get american restaurants to be less american.

when american governments - fed, state, or local - start telling restaurants how much salt and grease to use, that ticks me off.

except why should it tick me off? american governments tell restaurants all the time how cold they gotta keep the food and how hot they gotta keep the food and whether or not the counter they're choppin' the chicken on is clean enough. so why not tell restaurants how much salt and grease to use?

the other thing is, michelle obama is not the government.

but the other thing is, she's married to it. and that's gettin' a little too close for my comfort.

and the other thing is, if laura bush can tell school kids that reading is good for them, why can't michelle obama tell school kids that eating fries 24/7 isn't good for them?

but the other thing is, i would rather michelle obama not spend so many of my tax dollars flying her family around on fancy planes.

especially if those planes have burgers on them.

how long it takes me to get sick

snap! i'm sick.


people who know me know that i have the immune system of half a flea. make that the immune system of one fourth of a flea. one fourth of a sick flea.

i get every bug that ever came down the pike. and it seems that every bug that ever came down the pike is gunning for me and going at least 35 miles over the speed limit.

i returned to the work world this past monday - after a year and half absence  - and, ba da bing, ba da boom, here comes cold virus numero uno. (cold virus numero uno may be dressed up in a cute little sombrero and he may be munching a yummy looking taco, but he's still a cold virus. and he still makes me sneeze and he still makes my head ache and he still makes my throat sore. maybe cold virus nombre deux will at least have the good manners to bring me a crepe suzette or a nice bottle of burgundy.)

so, anyway, how long it takes me to get sick is, not long. 5 seconds.

funf sekunden, in german.

(do german cold viruses bring you a nice beer?)