Category Archives: health

The Horrible,Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Flu

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Earlier this week, I had a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad flu.  It started Sunday evening with a mildly upset stomach.  By midnight, it was as if all the fluids in my body had been given orders to evacuate ASAP.  All night I lay moaning on the bathroom floor, cheek pressed to the cool stone tile, waiting for the demon to rear its ugly head again . . . and again . . .  At some point I must have crawled back into bed, because when I heard Hubby brushing his teeth to leave for work, I hissed at him, “DO NOT LEAVE!!!  I’m DYING!!!”  He had miraculously slept through the disgusting events happening just a room away.  In my fevered dehydrated state, I imagined him returning home from work at 6pm only to find a dried up husk of me, something akin to a deflated party balloon, or a busted birthday pinata.  Thank God, before he left, Hubby was able to locate a ten-year-old Zofran pill (anti-nausea) which slowed down the entire process and helped me sleep through most of the day.

I slept through most of Monday and Tuesday, having terrible fever dreams much of the time.  A parade of flavorful foods danced through my brain, causing my stomach to roll with nausea.  Enchiladas, lasagna, chili dogs with relish, Texas chili, tuna casserole.  Noooooo!  Every time I closed my eyes, more aromatic spicy foods would come to mind.  I stopped sleeping and tried to watch tv, but then upon dozing, the characters from Shameless became part of my life!  Go away, Frank and Fiona!  You’re not helping!

When I began to feel better Tuesday afternoon, I had a funny fever dream.  My brother, Paul, had invited me to lunch to try out a new restaurant with an innovative concept:  Every table was equipped with an Easy Bake Oven, in which you cooked your own meal tabletop.  The craft cocktail list was from the 1960’s, and the restaurant was decorated diner style with over-stuffed retro-red leather booths and shiny chrome tables.  I can’t wait to tell Paul all about it.  (Am I onto something? We could call it the Easy Bake Diner and have a gift shop with retro toys and candy.)  I am constantly amazing myself with my fantastic ideas (lol).

I woke up Wednesday confident that I was well enough to return to work.  After eating exactly one piece of toast, one cup of broth, and one Saltine cracker in two days, I felt a little woozy. I walked Ruby the Wonder Spaniel into the backyard and was literally blinded by the bright sunshine. I’d been on the couch or in bed for THREE DAYS and not ventured outside once. My senses felt as enhanced as a bird dog’s; everything was SO loud!  Somebody, please turn those birds down!  ACCCKKKK—that plane overhead is going to burst my ear drums!  I wanted to shout at the people walking past our backyard fence, “Why are you screaming??”  I could hear a dog barking a mile away!  Throughout the day, I became desensitized and am now back to my normal self, able to withstand loud noises . . . and keep all bodily fluids where they belong.

Hear My Words, Good People:  Stay hydrated, wash your hands, and get lots of sleep, for you do not want to catch the Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Flu.

Cheers,

Mary

 

 

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A Snow Storm

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It is Sunday, and again I’m cooking broccoli soup.  I did not fully disclose the reason for last week’s broccoli soup:  we had leftover veg from school snack.  Each school day a student is asked to provide a specific snack, and two Friday’s ago it was broccoli and crackers.  The parent brought in a 3-pound bag from Costco for 13 children, most of whom won’t even EAT broccoli.  So as you can see, I was doing everyone a favor by using up the remaining 2.5 pounds of broccoli leftover from school snack.  Last week’s pot of soup was SO YUMMY that all three of us enjoyed it for many lunches.  I feel terrible when I purchase vegetables and don’t use them—I always picture the migrant workers, bent and tired, picking the broccoli so we can have it on our tables.

In the oven is a new creamed spinach recipe.  It’s easy to stir up creamed spinach, but this recipe has an jalapeno pepper in it!  If it’s good, I’ll share the recipe next time! And Hubby, aka The Grill Master, is marinating sirloin steaks we purchased at Costco this afternoon.  It will be a veritable feast!

This peaceful day of reading Here Be Dragons on the couch under a blanket and puttering in the kitchen was well-deserved after our 24 hours away to Flagstaff on Friday /Saturday to check in on our youngest, William.  We’d had several angsty texts from him over the week, with worries ranging from health issues, to a failed Chemistry exam, to not being able to find affordable housing for the next school year.  I was born with strong empathy (not exactly a gift, I assure you) and was worried all week.  I am sooooooo lucky to be married to my best friend who usually agrees with me  . . . and who also felt it was a good idea to drive the 2.5 hours up into the mountains to check in our boy (who is a sophomore studying Chemistry at NAU).

Well.  We knew it was going to snow, but little did we know we were driving into a snow storm!  I was excited to see snow falling from the sky since it had been seven years since I’d seen that magic in motion.  We were two hours up the mountain when the snow started to come down hard.  Visibility was good, but the road was slippery.  Cars were avoiding one snow-laden lane completely, so we proceeded slowly up the mountain in single file, each driver happy to follow the path carved out by the cars leading this strange parade.

Still daylight, it was hard for me to enjoy the postcard-perfect views of the snowy forest out the window when I knew Hubby was tense and anxious about road conditions.  On the right side, two SUVs had slid off  the road and were without passengers in the ditch.  Just before Munds Park, a semi had jack-knifed into the grassy area that is the median, blocking one lane completely.   (We later found out that ADOT closed that stretch of highway an hour after we had driven it!)  We arrived safe and sound, only an hour late, and were so happy to take William and his girlfriend to dinner and for groceries.  And by golly, I believe we solved all the problems, arranging for a two-bedroom for Fall and after his roommate graduates, an adorable, tiny studio for the Spring semester.  It was fun to be sooooo cold; yesterday was 20 and when we went to bed Friday night, the temperature was 4 degrees!  4 DEGREES!!!

I’m always grateful that our three children have stuck so close to home.  It feels good to be able to swoop in and save the day (as long as it’s welcomed help), and have a little adventure, too.  I’d forgotten the peacefulness of falling snow.  As Hubby fixed their apartment dishwasher,  I stood on the patio, watching the wind blow snow out of the trees in the quiet forest area outside their front door.  I was awed by the humongous ravens cawing and flying about, and breathed the cold air deeply into my lungs.  I  thought to myself, surely this is a precious moment that I will hold close for a long time.

Cheers,

Mary

 

Strong Women

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I am in Mexico.

Hubby and I drove down yesterday morning.  We were greeted by a smooth-as-glass sea and short-sleeve weather in the high 70s.  Bonus:  In the group of 20 single-level condos, there are only three occupied.  It feels downright sinful to have this slice of Paradise all to ourselves.  The ocean water is very cold.  After walking barefoot in the tide pools, I was eager to put on my thickest socks to warm my icy feet.

I brought a stack of novels and magazines, but instead sat in a chair on our patiodaydreaming and watching the birds dive into the ocean, admiring a long line of at least twelve dolphins swim slowly by.  I breathed in and out, letting my thoughts go here and there, losing myself in the gentle movements of the ocean.  I smiled thinking about happy hour with best friends the night before.  I LOVE my bossy friends–the strong women who don’t just smile and nod, but instead snort and say, “You’re doing it wrong!”  I was told I am too intrusive in my adult children’s lives, and more importantly that I am NOT allowed to wear sensible flat shoes to our son’s wedding in two weeks.  “But I want to dance all night,” I whined.  They patiently showed me photos of pretty shoes that would not hurt and would have hours of dancing built into them.  Another friend has been coaching my diet, sending me great ideas of how she lost weight last Fall, and another friend tells me how bad my brassieres are every time I see her.  To G, S, T, L, and L:  I will stop starving myself, and I will go to the mall this week to buy pretty party shoes and a new bra.  And I’ll consider not texting my children every day (not making any promises)!  I’m honored to have your love and friendship.

Speaking of strong women, I re-watched Terms of Endearment for probably the twentieth time.  You know, that old movie with Shirley Maclaine and Debra Winger.  (I love the expanded viewing choices on Mexican Netflix.)  The scene where Debra Winger gives her mom a small goodbye sign with her hand as she is dying gets me every time.  I thought this movie was an appropo choice since this past week I’ve been negotiating  a new situation of co-existing with our adult daughter.  The film gave me lots to think about and induced some waterworks from yours truly.

I mopped up my tears after the movie and went out on the patio to say goodnight to the stars.  Hubby and I gasped!  It was so dark you could barely see your hand in front of your face, but the sky!!!  The sky looked as if someone had thrown a hand full of diamonds onto black velvet.  It’s been years since I had a proper view of the stars.  The vastness and beauty felt overwhelming!  I was filled with an immense sense of peace while breathing in the ocean air and admiring the sparkling heavens. I felt as if the Universe was giving me a big hug and telling me, “Everything is going to be okay.” (And I’m pretty sure I heard, “And wear comfortable shoes to the wedding.”)

Cheers,

Mary

 

Hungry!

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I started a diet today.

It started out great.

I am never hungry in the morning, so I met a friend for coffee at 10 without eating first. It was an interesting exercise. The smells at The Hillside Spot were tantalizing: Waffles, eggs with a side of fried potatoes, and lush buttery pastries. My mouth was watering, and my sense of smell was keen. I caught myself turning my head to get a better whiff as the full platters went by.  I most likely resembled my Springer Spaniel following her nose about while I’m cooking dinner. My hands shook a bit from the lack of food combined with the jolt of caffeine, but I was doing well.

I felt strong.

Mind over matter.

This time I was going to stick with it and lose at least five pounds before our son’s wedding in three weeks. I was going to feel so much healthier, and wouldn’t it be nice to NOT have to unbutton my jeans every time I sat down?

But then I got home.

I sat down to my computer to do some research for a summer vacation, and that’s when it started. My mind began cataloguing the food in the fridge. First the top shelf:  Half a leftover steak. A raspberry yogurt.  A bowl of pudding. Second shelf: The bag of expensive cheeses leftover from our holiday entertaining.  Deli sausage slices!  Chicken tortilla soup!!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

I ate a banana and drank a big glass of water and got back to work. My stomach growled madly but I ignored it and started to answer email.  My mind wandered uncontrollably back to the contents of the fridge. Black beans with tomatoes and onion. Sour cream! The last slice of coconut cake.

I slowly peeled an orange and savored every juicy segment. I heated up another cup of coffee and settled back in at my laptop.

That was an hour ago. My work is constantly being interrupted. Did you hear that? I swear I just heard the pepperoni pizza calling to me from the freezer. “Just one slice. I’m so tasty. I’ll fill you up so you won’t be hungry anymore. I’m greasy and delicious. EAT ME!”

I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. The coconut cake is competing with the apple pie, and the half and half is mad I didn’t put it in my coffee. All dozen of the eggs insist I fry them up in just a little bit of bacon grease.

I think I’d better peel another orange–I am not feeling strong. I am feeling . . . HUNGRY!!!

Cheers,

Mary

Ditch Day

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We woke on the last morning of November to gray skies, a welcome change after the endless summer we are enduring here in Tempe, Arizona.  It’s still warm, but waking up that morning to the absence of the sun made my whole world look different.  I felt like pulling a “ditch day.”  Maybe it’s because it’s finally cold enough to wear boots, and wearing my boots makes me feel sassy (even though after a few minutes on the school playground they are covered in a fine layer of dust).  Maybe it’s because I was wearing a new blouse with a bold pattern and gypsy sleeves?  Maybe it’s because Christmas is just around the corner, and I’m filled with excitement and anticipation for all of the holiday fun coming our way!

Of course, I did not call in sick to school.

Upon reaching school, I chatted with a friend on the playground.  I asked her, “Did you ever ditch school?”

“Yes,” she said.  “In fact, I was thinking this morning how great it would be just to stay in bed.  I think it’s because of the cloudy sky.”

I shook my head.  “When I ditched class in high school, it was after second hour Humanities, a class I had with my best friends, or sometimes we’d go out to lunch and decide not to go back.  It was the BEST feeling to leave school during the middle of the day and not go back.”

She smiled, and I whispered,  “Let’s ditch.  C’mon . . . let’s go!”

“It would be great to go home and get back in bed,” she mused.

“Think bigger!,” I said.” We could go to the Farm at South Mountain!”

Her eyes got big. “Oh!  A chai latte and a big breakfast!”

I nodded vigorously. “And walk all around the gardens and look in the gift shop! It would be so relaxing!”

Then the bell rang, and all the teachers and all the students went inside to our separate classrooms.

I did not ditch school.

We all love working at our school . . . but something in me that morning made me feel like doing something wild and crazy and spontaneous.  Lucky for me, working with three-year-olds makes EVERY DAY wild and crazy and spontaneous. I had a fabulous day at school, and afterwards did errands and googled Christmas gift ideas and texted with my lovely auntie in Illinois and played Words with Friends and picked up my Christmas cards from Costco.

On that note:  Why can’t we take a good picture?  Hubby and I are standing in strange poses, and there is a hand on Patrick’s shoulder that looks creepy. Is it William’s? Whose hand IS that???  I’m seriously not sure what happened there, but when I look at our photos from all the previous Thanksgivings, I laugh remembering all of the moments that lead up to the picture that is chosen for the Christmas card.

Happy December to all of you.  I hope you will keep in mind it’s okay to “ditch” every once in a while.  My December calendar is packed with social gatherings, and I’m quite certain I will “ditch” one or two of them, just to stay at home, start a fire in the fireplace, and bake cookies while singing badly to my favorite Christmas song and my favorite winter song.

Cheers,

Mary

When I’m Old

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Do any of you play Words with Friends?  I am absolutely addicted to this word game, which I play on my phone.  Each morning after my shower, I sit on the couch and play the 10-15 games I have going. I sip my coffee and pet my animals and truly, it’s a lovely way to greet the day.  During my school day, I can’t wait for a free minute to play a word or two, and lately, at night, I’ve been dreaming I’m playing.  Last night I dreamed I played the word “sofa” for 120 points!  This game is supposed to be good for maintaining healthy brain function and increasing memory skills.  A good player will be able to quickly find words in a jumble of letters, which is called anagramming.  Scientists have studied expert Scrabble players by examining MRI images while they are playing, and studies show that the expert Scrabble players are using different parts of their brains than non-expert Scrabble players and are strengthening areas of the brain associated with working memory.  I’m so happy to be addicted to a game that is actually good for my old noggin!  (Read more about it here.)

In general, I feel like my brain is keeping up with me quite well, but every once in awhile I can’t recall the name of an actor, even though I can see his face quite clearly in my head.  Or the name of a movie or book escapes me.  It usually comes to me later in the day, but it’s a frustrating feeling.  More embarrassing is telling the same stories twice to the same person. I’m especially guilty of this with Hubby, but in my defense, I talk to SO MANY PEOPLE during the day that I can’t remember whom I’ve told what!  I try to be entertaining and interesting and am always happy when someone cuts me off and says, “You already told me.” I also have incredibly vivid dreams, so it works the other way sometimes, in that I’ve dreamed that I told Hubby something and in waking life, I’ve never told him.  You know, just little things like we have company coming for dinner Friday, or my sister will be staying the night next Tuesday.  Lucky for me, after all these years, Hubby is used to my crazy ways!

The little lapses in memory do worry me, and lately I’ve been wondering what kind of old person I will be.  I want to be the nurturing, wise old grandma that always has banana bread baking in the oven and potato soup bubbling on the stove and time to listen to every story (like my Grandma Summers).  I’m so worried that I’ll be the embarrassing grandma with Turret’s Syndrome that shouts out things like, “PENIS!” at family dinners, or picks her nose or farts in public.  I’ve heard of elderly people who take their clothes off at the grocery store, or insist on watching the same tv series over and over again (and for me will it be Gilmore Girls, New Girl, or How I Met Your Mother?).  Will I stop bathing and get that old-person moldy smell?  Will I shuffle around the neighborhood wearing my bedroom slippers and bathrobe leading a chihuahua named Honey?

Well!  I’ve gotten myself quite worked up thinking about my future, so I’d better stop here and take a deep breath . . . and I’m pretty sure there’s a new word to be played.  If anyone wants to play WWF with me, message me, and I will send you my Zynga code name!

Cheers,

Mary

 

Yawns

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It’s been quite a month of travel for me.  I’ve had exciting adventures and slept in many different beds, so how wonderful it felt to get back to my own bed this weekend.  I slept like the dead–until about 7am when my ears were accosted by the sound of tweeting birds, which is very unusual at our house. These birds were serious about their songs; they did not let up, and after an hour, when (half asleep and half awake) I weighed plans about getting ridding of them (BB gun pellets? Sharp bird pest strips planted on the roof?).  I woke up enough to realize it was Hubby’s alarm clock that we both had slept through. ON A SUNDAY MORNING. I seriously wanted to punch him.  I told him he needs to go back to the old-fashioned BEEP BEEP BEEP alarm or else I will be slumbering in a different room.

Hubby is gone for a week to Georgia on a business trip so his alarm clock will not be disturbing me, but I still haven’t slept well for days.  The last night I was in Illinois, I sustained 60 mosquito bites–45 on my left leg and 15 on my right.  These were not the pesky little mozzies we have here in Tempe whose bites disappear after an hour.  These big-ass Midwestern mosquitos left some sort of toxin in my skin, causing each bite to swell to the size of big red nickels . . . and they are so itchy it’s hard to keep my fingernails off them.  It’s been a week and they show no signs of healing.  If they aren’t better by Monday, I will seek medical attention.  I keep wishing I’d used the bug repellant spray offered but nooooooo, I didn’t want the chemicals on me.  UGH.

Then last night Ruby the Wonder Spaniel got me up FOUR TIMES to go out and do her business between 2am and 5am.  She’d eaten so many cicadas before bed that her tummy was literally buzzing.  She does this every year, and while watching her leap about the yard for her summer snacks is Youtube-worthy, those crunchy treats always give her a case of the runs.  I gave her a Tums that she licked at loudly for a good 15 minutes, but then we were back outside soon after that.  Complicating the situation is that I’d taken a Benadryl to try to calm the itch from the bug bites and couldn’t figure out which way the door was!   Several times in the past few weeks, I’ve woken up in the dark thinking Hubby and I are still in our fabulous British hotel room with the magical view of the Tower of London.

Next week school starts and I will be back to an “early to bed and early to rise” schedule. It will be a difficult transition after a summer of staying up past midnight either reading or watching Netflix, waking up with no alarm clock, then napping mid afternoon.  But I am excited to meet the new staff members, new parents, and most of all our students . . . and be living a useful life again after the long, restorative summer break.

Cheers,

Mary