Scribblings

Where To Find Us

Hey all, I've had to move a big part of my blog to blogger because we are being hit with bandwidth overages. I'm not sure why that is happening because we paid for a commercial website but until we can figure out what's going on, all my cat blogging, memes, Lost and other stuff have moved to:

This That & The Other Thing

And what stays here will be news specifically about what's up with us. Please come visit us at my new blog!

Itchies = Shingles

I shake my head in...what's the word? Not disbelief--I had a feeling these blisters and itchies meant I have shingles. Maybe it's a feeling of oh well whaddaya gonna do? Shingles is actually herpes zoster (isn't that a nice name?), the very same virus that causes chicken pox. In fact, it's Chicken Pox 2.0 because you only get this if you've already had it the first time around. Shingles usually doesn't appear until you are over 50 and usually they reappear after you've been sick with something else or are majorly stressed or otherwise have a compromised immune syndrom. Because the virus hides out in your nerves for all these years, when you get an outbreak there might be a little or a lot of pain involved. I am knocking on wood. So far it feels like green flies walking all over me and now and then taking a bite here or there. The doctor prescribed an anti-viral drug which works best if you start taking it within 72 hours of noticing symptoms. For me, that was Saturday and I think I just squeaked in by a hair. Sometimes my eyes itch and sometimes it feels like there are blisters or something inside my eyelids. Sometimes I get tingling or burning. This is just so weird! In addition to the medication, I'm supposed to stay out of the sun which is a very big drag. More on shingles here.

The Itchies!

TB and I have been going round and round with all sorts of ailments and maladies. Right now he has a really intense sinus infection and I'm having an allergic reaction something. I have a rash on my neck and the itchies all over.

At first I thought I was having an allergic reaction to Nova pearls, a spray we use on the cats to decrease their dander. I got a lot of that stuff all over my side of the bed and so I took off the spread, top sheet & pillow cases to wash them. It's not that.

I started taking Zetia within the last 2 days. Could it be that? I didn't take any today.

I also just stopped a 10 day course of 2 antibiotics to treat diverticulitis or diverticulosis, whichever. Could I be having a delayed reaction to one of those antibiotics?

I've been taking benedryl every 4 hours since yesterday--won't be able to get to see the doctor until tomorrow. I am so tired of seeing doctors though!

The New New Blog

ARGH, Word Press sucks!

I re-activated an old blogger blog I had called TNT, gave it a new look, a new name, and here it is:

This, That & The Other Thing

My Feline Friday is posted there! Check it out!

Good News!

The results from my biopsy are in: negative! I did a little dance and thanked God for sending me to Dr. Ray Puskas, the plastic surgeon who did my breast reduction. Why? Because (I think I wrote earlier) Dr. Puskas told me that the first time I had a mammogram the radiologist would probably see something "suspicious" and want me to have a biopsy. Go and have the biopsy but don't let yourself get upset about it, he said. Dr. Puskas is one of those rare doctors who tells you everything you need to know--even if you don't think to ask it.

I need to send that man a card.

God also led me to an article online about false positives and CAD screenings. Now, when I'm saying God did this and God did that, it's my faith talking. All of this information is out there floating in cyberspace and maybe this particular story was even covered on TV. I hadn't noticed it. But I do scan the summaries I get and this one hopped out at me. It was like a message to me saying, "Now, remember, don't worry." It could also have been Rich making sure that this article got into my mail box.

Do I sound crazy? I guess I'm just happy.

I got the article much earlier than today, felt reassured, but elected not to say anything about it until now. The article is called CAD Mammograms Often Find Harmless Spots. I had a CAD mammogram. Here's the text of the article:

CAD Mammograms Often Find Harmless Spots By: JEFF DONN (Sat, Apr/07/2007)

BOSTON - A good mammogram reader may do just as well at spotting cancers without expensive new computer systems often used for a second opinion, a new study suggests. Computerized mammography, now used for about a third of the nation's mammograms, too often finds harmless spots that lead to false scares, researchers found. That conflicts with earlier studies showing benefit from the systems.

"It looks like computer-aided detection might not be working like people thought it would," said lead researcher Dr. Joshua Fenton, a family doctor at the University of California-Davis, in Sacramento.

The findings, which appeared Thursday in the New England Journal of Medicine, touch on a rapidly spreading technology first marketed in 1998.

Known as computer-aided detection or CAD, it consists of a computer coupled with software that identifies suspicious spots on mammograms and visibly marks them.

Here's how it works. When mammograms are taken, radiologists first read the X-rays and make their own judgments. But they can then double-check with the computer system to see if they have missed anything that's worth examining further.

There usually isn't. Still, some studies have shown that CAD can turn up 10 percent to 20 percent more cancers. Patients often have no idea if this new technology is being used.

The researchers in this five-year study , backed by the federal government and the American Cancer Society , analyzed mammograms from medical centers in Washington state, Colorado and New Hampshire. Seven of 43 centers used CAD. The mammograms came from 222,135 women and included 2,351 with a cancer diagnosis within a year of their tests.

The researchers found that with computerized mammography, a third more women were called back for suspicious findings and 20 percent more got biopsies than with ordinary mammograms. That might be a good thing, if enough cancers turned up to justify the minor surgeries and anxiety surrounding them.

Yet the computerized method showed no clear capability to turn up more cancer cases than unaided readings: Four cancers were found for every 1,000 mammograms, whatever screening method was used. That means that CAD would give 156 more unneeded callbacks and 14 more biopsies for every additional cancer it finds. And though these extra cancers tend to be early ones that are easier to treat, many would never be threatening anyway.

Dr. Phil Evans, at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center, said that "most radiologists that use computer-aided mammograms understand there are many false positives."

Frustratingly, the study ultimately wasn't big enough to reach fully reliable comparisons between the rates of cancers found by the two methods. That means that bigger studies are needed to clarify whether computerized mammography finds enough additional cancers to make it worth all those false alarms and added cost. While the technology adds just $20 or so to a single mammogram, a CAD unit might cost $50,000 to $75,000.

Even so, Dr. Jay Baker, a Duke University radiologist who has studied the technology, said: "I don't think it's a huge stop sign to using CAD."

"CAD won't go away; it will have a place," agreed Dr. Ferris Hall, a mammogram specialist at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, in Boston, who wrote an accompanying editorial. But he added, "This is a setback for it."

Whether computerized or not, periodic mammograms are recommended for healthy women every year or two once they reach age 40. Experts advise women to check the credentials of radiologists at the clinic they plan to use and look for places that do a high volume.

,,,

On the Net:

American Cancer Society: http://www.cancer.org

Hologic (maker of CAD systems in study): http://www.hologic.com

Needle Biopsy

So I had this procedure done this afternoon and TB came along to hold my hand--except the doctor wouldn't let him in the room. It was too small!

When the doctor told me about the needle biopsy, I was thinking needle = hypodermic needle. Ha ha. I suppose if I'd known ahead of time how big this needle was I probably wouldn't have gone for it.

First came several shots of lidocaine, the stick and burn routine. Then the doctor holds up what looks like a giant caulking gun except that I realized that that was the biopsy needle! Lots of pressure and a couple of times some stinging pain as the doctor took samples from what she called "the lesion". Looking at the ultrasound screen, she said "cyst" and so I wondered which was it? She answered that while it had cyst-like qualities she couldn't come out and call it that, nor could she say one way or the other if the tissue looked okay or not. She preferred not to guess and it's better that way.

The nurse kept saying I was doing "excellent" and I wondered briefly what do other women do? Scream? Puke? I just tried to imagine I was at the beach but sometimes it was hard. There was a rather loud SNAP and then a drilling sound--it was sort of like being in a dentist'schair.I was going to ask, is it usual to take so many? But then I decided I didn't want to know.

I think my poor breast looks like Swiss cheese because she took 6 or 8 different samples. Now does that sound stupid? I really would rather just walk around in total ignorance for the next week, until the results come back. I did, however, opt not to schedule my appointment on Friday, April 13th. No way...it just gives me the heebie jeebies.

So I'm sitting here now and the lidocaine's worn off so I have stinging sensations all over. I'm not supposed to take ibuprofen until tomorrow. Well, at least Lost is on tonight.

An Abnormality

I really like the plastic surgeon who did my breast reduction surgery in 2005. Not only did he have a great bedside manner and was patient and willing to answer questions, he also believed that the more a patient knew the better of he or she would be. He would anticipate different "problems" that might come up and explain them to me so that if they happened, I didn't get all freaked out. During the last visit when he pronounced me healed and well, he said I should wait a year to get another mammogram. When I got it, he said, I shouldn't be surprised if the doctors found a lot of stuff they didn't like. Most likely it would be caused by scar tissue but it's always better to be safe than sorry. They'll want you to go for a needle biopsy. So go for it but don't let it scare you, he said.

And so I went for my mammogram and wasn't terribly surprised when, the very next day, I got a call from the doctor about an "abnormality" in my right breast--calcium deposits I should have biopsied. Okay, no big deal. I saw the breast surgeon today and she did an ultrasound. There is a cyst and some other thing or other in my right breast. I got a clear view of it. I still wasn't too worried, until the doctor said that if it was just a matter of scar tissue or healing then it would be bilateral.

Huh? She asked if I'd had any problems after the surgery and I didn't think I had. Of course, I do remember that the first surgeon had raised a couple of issues but it was so gently done that I didn't think a thing of it. Had I maybe had an infection that caused this extra weird stuff in my breast? I can't remember.

So next Wednesday I need to go back and have the needle biopsy. TB had taken the afternoon off and had come with me on this appointment and I was glad he was there. It's not so much that I was nervous or scared, it's just so much better not to be alone. I remember having a Pap test come back with abnormal cells right after Rich died and I had to go for further testing alone and it really sucked.

Okay, anyway, the doctor asked if we had any questions and neither of us did. Maybe that surprised her. My feeling is, why ask a bunch of questions now before I know what I'm dealing with? Why freak myself out over maybe nothing? And if it's something, I can't change it anyway. So I'll save all my questions for next week and for when the results come back. Meantime, I just pray.

My Desk

Sometimes a meme will ask about what I've got on my desk. Just for fun, I decided to take some pictures. What you have on your desk says a lot about you. Mine says my family means so much to me. I'm surrounded by pictures and by things the kids or TB have made or bought for me. What does your desk say about you?

Click the image to see the rest of the stuff on my desk.

I Think I Need A Vacation....From Reality!

You Are 62% Burned Out

You are very burned out. You need a huge break from your responsibilities, starting as soon as possible. And you need this time to reevaluate what you really want out of your life. Because you're working hard and going no where... and that would burn anyone out!

Humanizing Anxiety Disorders

At 16, I had my first memorable panic attack. What was I doing? Just watching Ben Hur with my family. It's a very emotional story about a wealthy Jewish man, Judah Ben-Hur, who thought he could be friends with a childhood friend who'd become a Roman soldier. Well, it turns out he couldn't. This soldier did his best to destroy Judah's whole family -- and he couldn't. The movie was subtitled A Tale of the Christ but Jesus only put in an appearance a couple of times. This was more like the affect Jesus had on Ben-Hur's family. Okay, well, but that has nothing to do with what happened to me. I think.

As I was watching the movie, all of a sudden the room began spinning. My heart started pounding and it seemed like there was a loud whooshing rushing sound in my ears. I almost felt like I was outside myself, watching myself, thinking that I was going to die or something awful was going to happen if I didn't get up and move right now and so I jumped up and rushed into the kitchen. I got myself a drink of water. It was dark in the kitchen and I drank the water slowly, waiting for my pounding heart to slow down.

When I went back to the living room, no one noticed anything and I was relieved. If I was going crazy, I didn't want anyone to know--especially not my parents!

It kept happenening, though, and I wondered how long it would be before everyone found out and I totally lost my mind. I'd get locked up in some institution, for sure! I'd be sitting in class listening to a lecture and wham! "It" would happen to me again. "It" would sneak up and take my by surprise and I never knew when or why. All I knew was that I was sure something terrible was going to happen to me. "It" would last for minutes or hours and the feelings of dread and fear were just pure agony. And no one knew what was happening to me.

I guess I mask well.

I did try to find out what "it" was by trying to explain "it" to my psychology teacher. My words were barely adequate to describe what I was feeling. She looked at me sympathetically and said, "don't worry about it. It's an identity crisis. We all go through it."

So I did feel better about that. It wasn't just me. When I was eventually able to confide in my best friend though, she looked at me with a sort of horrified expression. "Maybe you should see a doctor," she suggested. "It" had never ever happened to her. That scared me enough to keep my mouth shut and suffer in silence for the next few years.

When I did go to get help, I was scared by what the therapists were telling me. They used words like dissociation and fugue to describe what was happening to me. My gosh, did I have multiple personalities?

I read up on it and realized that those terms didn't exactly fit. I mean, I could remember everything that happened when "it" would come upon me. It's just that it seemed like I was watching it happen to someone else. I wasn't becoming anyone else and I sure did remember every agonizing second! I referred to "them" as "my spells". Therapists would give my anti-anxiety and antidepressant medications for about a year until "my spells" would go away and then I'd go off the medication.

I'd be fine for a year, maybe up to 5 years but then "my spells" always came back to haunt me. In 1980, I finally found out what they were really called: panic attacks. Over the years, I've learned that I do not cause them to happen to myself, that my inability to control them doesn't indicate a weakness of will, and I'm most definitely not crazy. For many years, there's been a stigma to having any mental illness or disorder.

Once a doctor compared disorders like panic to diabetes I finally "got" it. It's something biologically and has nothing to do with my character at all.

Now, here is this article:

The Mystery Behind Debilitating Phobias

NEW YORK, March 4, 2007
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(CBS) David Hoberman is obsessive-compulsive and has more phobias than you can count.

"I always go to the right of anything," he told Sunday Morning correspondent Martha Teichner. "I will not go under ladders. I don't like to fly."

From the very first episode, Monk, USA cable's star detective, was meant to be the walking definition of anxiety disorder — but funny. The back-story is that Monk and Hoberman, the show's creator, have a lot in common.

For the 40 million Americans who have an anxiety disorder, fears from ailuraphobia (a terror of cats) to aphenphosmphobia (dread of being touched) are not just funny-sounding crossword solutions, as actor Tony Shalhoub discovered.

"People's lives can be, you know, shattered," he said. "I realized we really have to tread lightly here, because it's a serious problem."

Jerilyn Ross, who runs the Anxiety Disorders Association of America, said that people who suffer from obsessive compulsive disorder are being sent the wrong signals about what they should fear.

"Something is telling your body that there's danger, but there isn't any danger, and so what happens is the person is totally aware that this is irrational," Ross said. "Even people with the same, exact anxiety disorder can have very different symptoms."

Jennifer Reines was 15 and at a party when her first panic attack came out of nowhere. Suddenly, her body felt very hot and the room began to spin.

"I felt like I was having a heart attack," she said. "It was probably the most terrifying experience in my life, and then after that I started to get them every single night before I went to bed."

Stephanie McKee has a fear of elevators and has been in therapy for years. She can remember walking up 19 flights of stairs rather than taking an elevator.

Emily Ford was afraid of talking in public. It got so bad that at one point she eight months living by herself in a cabin with no electricity in the Vermont woods.

"I'd sweat," she said. "I'd just be terrified that I was just gonna say something wrong or foolish and I couldn't talk, so I just wouldn't go out."

All three of these young women have been struggling to overcome what they consider the living hell of their anxiety disorders at the treatment center Ross runs outside Washington, D.C.

"A lot of people think that, 'Oh, you're not really sick,' or you know, 'It's just in your head and you can just get over it,'" Reines said. "But it is a disease."

Scientists have found that there is usually a genetic predisposition to anxiety disorders and they can be triggered by a physical or emotional trauma. Caffeine can even set off the accompanying panic attacks. Twice as many women have anxiety disorders as men, and sufferers can't turn their fears off because their brains function abnormally.

Dean of the Mount Sinai Medical School in New York City, Psychiatrist Dennis Charney studies anxiety disorders. He said the amygdala, the part of the brain that registers fear, seems to be overactive in the brain of a person who suffers from anxiety disorder. The cerebral cortex, the part of the brain that tells you to calm down, appears to be under-active.

"For the patient, many times it's gratifying to know that it's not a weakness, that this is a brain disorder that scientists are learning more about every day, so we can develop better treatment," Charney said.

Phobias, like the fear of heights James Stewart experiences in "Vertigo," are the most common of the many anxiety disorders. In "The Aviator," Leonardo DiCaprio plays reclusive billionaire Howard Hughes, who had among other things a germ phobia. Hollywood seems to love fictional anxiety disorders — remember Jack Nicholson in "As Good as It Gets?"

But real performers get them as well. Donny Osmond and Barbra Streisand both have suffered from social anxiety disorder, which led to debilitating stage fright. Streisand didn't perform in public for years.

Because of 9/11 and the Iraq war it would be hard not to have heard of post traumatic stress disorder.

Composer Allen Shawn suffers from agoraphobia — a fear of being unable to escape, and a fear of being anywhere outside his personal safety zones, including Bennington College in Vermont, where he teaches. Cars, elevators, airplanes, open spaces and closed spaces can all frighten him.

"I have turned my car around many, many, many times," he said. "I'll literally have the feeling, you know, I don't deserve to live. It's a terrible, terrible feeling."

He called the memoir he's just written "Wish I Could Be There." His father, William Shawn, the longtime editor of "The New Yorker" magazine, had multiple phobias and the magazine was his safety zone.

"The New Yorker made it possible for him to engage with everything and with all kinds of people, without you know, going to Mt. Everest," Shawn said.

Shawn believes that his phobias were triggered by the institutionalization of his twin sister Mary who was autistic. He said he internalized the shock of what he saw as a banishment of his sister. His feelings were then compounded by the fact that his family never discussed what happened.

"We didn't process it as a catastrophe," he said.

Shawn believes years of treatment, medication and psychotherapy have helped him battle his fears and to accept that his achievements, even his music, may be a response to them.

"In music I can actually go down the lonely wooded road and not, you know, bolt from it and turn the car around," he said.

Monk, the TV detective, may also benefit from his phobias. Monk has become the stand-in for millions of Americans, who want people to realize that for them, just getting through a day can be an act of courage.

"The crime solving is related to his obsession with orderliness," Shalhoub said. "I just focus on what's off."

"The fact that Monk is so brilliant, and the fact that at the end of the episode he is able to overcome his issues, to solve the murder, is heroic," Hoberman said.

What I like is that a character like Monk puts a sympathetic, human face on a sometimes disabling disorder.

The Price of Fun In the Sun

i have always loved the beach -- playing in the sand, swimming or frolicking in the water, sunning myself and most of all, the sound of the surf in my ears and salty tangy smell in my nose and taste on my lips.

We could easily walk to the town's bay beaches in the summer time and I think we were there just about every day from Memorial Day to Labor Day.

Sometimes we'd get a real treat and Mom would take my brother and me over to the ferry. This was before the Robert Moses Bridge (on Long Island) was built. We'd go from Captree Beach over to Fire Island where the mighty ocean was. My dad taught my brother and me to swim in the bay and although the ocean was scary, we soon learned how to swim there too.

This love of the beach ... it must be genetic.

These are my grandparents at Sea Gate Beach. The picture was taken in 1915 and I'm guessing they were honeymooning. My grandfather, a stern immigrant from Norway, was never one to just sit around, so this had to be some kind of special occasion.

For every summer of my life right up until I got married the first time, I was always at the beach during the summer. I used to do laps in the bay or in the ocean for exercise. Yes, that silly kid in the picture is really me at around the age of 26 or 27. I loved riding the waves on a raft and when one wasn't available, I'd just body surf.

When we weren't swimming or playing in the water, we'd bask in the sunshine. My brother was too macho for sun screen and while I wasn't one of those Ban d'Soleil folks, I wasn't using SPF 15 either. I think the highest I'd go those years was about an 8.

Gosh, I miss the beach. I've been back to several beaches over the years but not to the extent I did when I was a kid. Now it's all different too--I'm putting on SPF 50 and wearing hats and long sleeves and all that other "old lady" garbage I always used to roll my eyes at. And it's all because of my friend, the Beach and his best friend the Sun.

I began noticing the age spots in my 40s. Having a nice gorgeous tan when you are in your 20s is great but these big splotches aren't so much fun...especially when they begin to change. I guess I've had about a dozen precancerous skin cells removed in the last few years. Most recently, I had 4 removed and two are being biopsied. It's the price of all those years of careless fun in the sun but you know what? I wouldn't trade any of them back. There are just too many good memories.

Fog of Confusion 2

One reason I had to make another entry was to get rid of that second explorer page. I was having too much trouble trying to go back and forth. I have only just figured out moving from tab to tab on a single page--which I really like now. Anyway, the other article on fibro fog was on the Arthritis Foundation website and I found it to be helpful and hopeful.

Clearing the Fog

Excerpted from Good Living with Fibromyalgia Workbook.

Many people with fibromyalgia experience unclear thinking or cognitive dysfunction. They become forgetful, lose their train of thought, forget words or mix them up. This is what is popularly called fibro fog. There's no known cause for it, and the only treatment for it is following some basic memory and communication tips.

Below are some common-sense pointers that can help you clear the fog.

Repeat yourself. Repeat things to yourself over and over again. Repetition will keep thoughts fresh in your mind.

Write it down. Whether you write in a calendar, in a notebook or on sticky notes, if you're afraid you won't remember something, putting pen to paper can help.

Pick your best time. If there is something you need to do that requires concentration and memory, such as balancing your checkbook or following a recipe, pick your best time to do it. Many people with fibromyalgia say they perform best early in the day.

Get treated. Depression, pain and sleep deprivation can influence your ability to concentrate and remember. Getting your medical problems treated may indirectly help your memory.

Engage yourself. Reading a book, seeing a play, or working a complex crossword or jigsaw puzzle can stimulate your brain and your memory.

Stay active. Physical activity, in moderation, can increase your energy and help lift your fibro fog. Speak to your doctor or physical therapist about an exercise program that is right for you.

Explain yourself. Explain your memory difficulties to family members and close friends. Memory problems often result from stress. Getting a little understanding from the ones you love may help.

Keep it quiet. A radio blasting from the next room, a TV competing for your attention, or background conversation can distract your attention from the task at hand. If possible, move to a quiet place and minimize distractions when you are trying to remember.

Go slowly. Sometimes memory problems can result from trying to do too much in too short a period of time. Break up tasks, and don't take on more than you can handle at once. Stress and fatigue will only make the situation worse.

Some of these I do already--I know I focus better in the mornings. I read and do puzzles. Other things I need to start doing.

And here's the lyrics for "Ball of Confusion" while I'm at it. I always did like this song.

Fog of Confusion: That's What My Mind Is Today

My title is a take-off of the Temptations song "Ball of Confusion" but that's not what the post is about. I was looking for information on the ball of confusion from an episode of Sponge Bob. You flip the switch on and immediately all intelligence is vacuumed out of your brain and you stand with with a vacant expression, drooling all over yourself. I feel like that many days, like everything's drained out and I can't put two thoughts together, can't seem to do the simplest task (like heat up an already cooked pork roast), and just generally feel like a sack of jello. Most of the time I get really mad at myself when this happens, which does absolutely nothing to help.

What did help was doing a google search of brain fog, all in fun, and coming up with some useful information. Now, here is the problem I'm confronting at this very moment in time: where did I put all that information? I installed Explorer 7 not long ago and it's great because of the tabbing ... except ... if I click on one of my toolbar icons, a whole nex Explorer page opens up. That's what my problem is right now. I have two explorer pages open and trying to process and find all the information I want for this post is sizzling my brain.

On one explorer page, I have tabs for Stumbleupon.com (which looks really interesting!), the lyrics to the Temps' song, my entry and an article called "FIBROMYALGIA AND BRAIN FOG OR FIBRO FOG". However, I remembered also finding an article from the arthritis foundation about fibromyalgia fog. Where did it go? No tabs...had I closed it by accident? And then I realize there is yet another explorer page open. That page opened because I clicked an icon for our photo gallery. And on that page is the tab for the other article.

I am totally blown away. I sit staring at the screen wondering what to do next. I feel a vacuous expression coming over my face. Next I'll start drooling. But wait! This second page has some really helpful information so that I can try to cope with what's happening.

Here is the first article:

Fibromyalgia & Brain Fog or Fibro Fog

Brain fog aka fibro fog is a commonly reported symptom of fibromyalgia. Fibromyalgia patients often describe multiple sensations of fatigue and listlessness combined with transitory states of confusion, poor attention and concentration, and short-term memory loss. This fibro fog tends to exacerbate the deficits in daily functioning that a fibromyalgia sufferer must deal with.

What causes fibro fog? There's no conclusive origin for this symptom of FMS, nor an explanation as to why it exists in varying degrees for different fibromyalgia patients. Sleep deprivation and significant difficulty in achieving and/or maintaining deep level sleep, however, may very well point to the answer.

It is at the deeper levels of sleep (delta wave sleep) that a person's mind conducts its internal "housekeeping". During this phase of sleep, newly acquired information is assimilated and integrated. The inability to get enough restorative deep-level sleep may have an impairing effect on an individual's ability to recall information or operate at a normal level of mental efficiency.

The thing about sleep makes a lot of sense. I didn't sleep well last night and was up really early so that Heidi could go on a field trip to Mt. Laurel. She still has a driver's permit and so I needed to go with her on the drive. Anyway, after I got back home I felt increasingly sleepy so I took a long nap. Instead of feeling refreshed when I woke up, I felt drugged and confused. Then the fog descended.

Next article: Dealing with fog

Meant to be 2

I can't explain what it's like to be a widow other than to say it's like half of your heart is amputated and the wound is left open and raw. Well, in order to survive a trauma like that your body puts itself into a state of shock. I remember for the first three months after Rich died, I was almost always completely and totally numb. People would say to me, "wow, you're doing so well!" and they'd just have no clue. You might have some inkling, some glimpse of what it is to be widowed but unless it's happened to you, you just don't know.

After about 3 months, ready or not, the anesthesia wears off and you deal with the pain the best way you can. One of the things I did to cope was haunt chat rooms with psychics. I couldn't let go of Rich and there were several manifestations that let me know he was close by. I really believe this part: I think when someone dies unexpectedly (even if they've been very sick), they're sort of in "shock" too and hang around their loved ones much the same way the Patrick Swayze character did in Ghost. After awhile, though, it's time to move on but they can be "stuck" if their loved ones can't let go. Looking back, I can almost see Rich wanting me to be okay but unable to get about his heavenly business because I was totally falling apart. And so I think he began gently prodding me to get out of the chat rooms with people who talk to the dead and into rooms where people talk to the living.

I remember there came a point where I was so lonely for a man's company. I have very supportive friends then and now--most are female. Now let's see if I can say this right .... sometimes I just wanted the sound of a man's voice, a guy's opinions, the sight of hairy hands or a beard. I joined email lists for widows and widowers and began some friendships with both. All the friendships with widowers were what's called "LD" (long distance) ... and that's what felt safe for me.

Around the holidays, I began to feel like I wanted to out with guys but I felt vulnerable and guilty. I told myself, after all, this is what Rich wanted and yet I felt like I was betraying him. And vulnerable? Hey, it's one thing to be 25 and sexy...at that point I was 46 and fat. One friend mentioned Parents Without Partners and I just could not deal with a face-to-face.

So I checked out match.com and signed up for a 3 month trial. What a trip that was for the most part! I still wanted to move slowly so I was looking for widowers around my age who lived out of state, didn't smoke or drink, liked cats and kids, reading...well, basically the same stuff I liked. Most of the profiles I received were guys looking for women 20 years younger than me. There was one profile, though, that came through just before I went to PA for the holidays with the kids.

The profile showed a smiling, genial looking guy who lived in NJ, didn't smoke, didn't drink, liked cats, had adult children and didn't want to start a new family but liked kids, liked going for walks, reading, photography ... hey, this guy sounds like a winner! One thing practically made my hair stand on end: this man had a Van Dyke beard and blue eyes...oh, no, so he looked like Rich! I hit the delete button and went to Pennsylvania.

I started to really crash after the New Year. I started ducking my friends and finding reasons not to go out of the house. What for? My life was over. My mailbox was loaded either with loser profiles or posts from guys looking to hook up for a one nighter. Ugh! I emailed match.com and cancelled my membership. They posted back and said they were sorry to see me go but I still had several weeks on the free trial and that I could continue to use it until it expired.

No way, I thought, and just kept hitting the delete button. And then one morning, I realized I was looking at a familiar face just a second before I hit the delete button. And it was like I heard a voice in my ear saying again, "Give him a chance." So I looked at the profile again and thought, what the heck, what have I got to lose? What I have to gain is the friendship of what seems to be a very nice guy. And so I sent off a post. He responded almost right away and I was taken with his good humor and charm--I totally loved the gifs in his email to me. I answered him back and we began an email friendship.

It happened that I got a call from one of those time share places that offer free weekends for sitting through one of their lousy promotions. This was for Orlando Florida and my little voice said, go, you & the kids need this! My new friend lived in NJ and I thought, well, why don't we meet? Boy, I was SO nervous! I know he was too. We'd agreed to meet at a McDonald's just off the NJ Turnpike.

I think as soon as I saw him, I knew that it was possible to love and live again and to feel like I had a whole heart again. I could see that he was nervous even as he gave me the most adorable angel bear to watch over us on our trip south and so I took his hand and we all walked into the restaurant. We talked for a couple of hours, but it sure didn't seem like it!

The guy, of course, is TB.

While on vacation, I called TB several times and we'd just talk and talk. Now that we met and realized we had so much in common, I wasn't afraid to go out with him. I didn't feel vulnerable. I could feel love growing.

We both believe that Rich and Audrey (TB's first wife who also passed suddenly after a severe illness) got their heavenly heads together and brought us together. They could move on now, knowing that TB and I love each other and will be okay.

And so ... like Abel said, maybe some things are just meant to be? And maybe more than once, too.

Meant to be

One of the recurring themes running throughout my favorite show Lost is the question of fate vs. free will. I read Abel Keough's blog regularly. I sort of stumbled across his blog in 2002 or 2003, not long after TB and I got married. At that time, Abel's Blog was at a different URL and was called "A Young Widower's Tale". Happily, he met, married and now has a family with his second wife, Marathon Girl. Anyway, after the most recent episode of Lost Abel wrote "I don't believe in fate" but then went on to say "... it seemed like some invisible hand kept pushing Marathon Girl and I together no matter how many mistakes and dumb decisions we made."

I've been thinking a lot about the episode and about Abel's post. I know that God gave us free will. Sometimes when you choice a certain path, you can pretty much predict what the outcome will be good or bad. Was it fated to happen? I mean, even though we have free will are we programmed to make certain choices so that there is a particular outcome? I don't know.

I do have a couple of "meant to be" type stories though. Way back in 1983, I was in a disintegrating relationship with a jerk. I wasn't ready to let him go because I was in love with him. I was a freelance interpreter then and had met him almost 2 years earlier at one of my assignments. I remember it was June or July of 1983 and I'd just started a summer job for a market research firm. Interpreting assignments were very hard to come by in the summers. I worked from 4 p.m. to 1 a.m. at this part time job several nights a week. When I wasn't working, I'd often listen to a call in radio talk show.

Well, this one particular night the host had a psychic (stop rolling your eyes!) as his guest. The psychic was going to answer any question you wanted. The only information he needed was your birthday and that of your significant other. I'd heard psychics on other talk shows before and it never meant anything to me but this evening I felt like I had to get through and talk to the guy. I wanted to know if my relationship was going anywhere or should I move on? Of course, the line was busy all night but I kept trying.

Finally, five minutes before the show ended, I got through. The host put me on hold right away and I ground my teeth in frustration. I was just about in tears when I heard the music for the show signing off. But then the host came on and said that the psychic was going to talk to me, even though the show was now off the air. Wow! Nervously, I gave the psychic my birthdate and that of my then boyfriend.

I really wasn't very surprised when the psychic said this relationship was going nowhere and that the boyfriend didn't treat me nearly as well as I deserved. He then predicted that by fall--October or November--I would be in a new relationship, one with a man that I wouldn't be attracted to. I scoffed and the psychic said, listen, the men who are "your type" are no good for you--they will never give you the love and respect you deserve. The psychic said, give this man a chance because he is the one for you. Right.

The rest of the summer, I weaned myself off the boyfriend. It was depressing and very discouraging but luckily my friends and famiily were supportive. I made new friends at this part time job and since they didn't know my history, I could relax and just laugh at jokes, forgetting my pain for a while. I had 3 or 4 of these new buds.

In September, interpreting assignments began to come in but I decided I'd keep working weekends at this market research place. I could use the extra money.

One night toward the end of that month, I was one of the last to leave the building. I'd gotten a survey at the last minute and it went on beyond 1 a.m. All the interviewers already left and only the supervisor was left. I went quickly into the parking lot, eager to get out of there and was startled to find one of the editors leaning up against his car. He was one of my new buddies, a very tall, blonde blue-eyed guy with very thick glasses--someone fun to be with but definitely not my "type". I was attracted to guys who looked like pirates--like Clark Gable. Tall dark and handsome.

After I recovered my voice, I greeted my friend and asked what he was doing. And he replied, "I was waiting for you. I was wondering...do you want to go out?"

And as I was about to say no thanks, a little voice whispered: give the guy a chance.

Okay, so what was the harm? It's just a date, no big deal.

Of course, this shy friend who'd waited and waited for me to come out that night was Rich.

Meant to be?

But then why did he die?

And why did the next "meant to be" happen?

Once we knew how sick Rich was, he said "If anything ever happens to me, I'd want you to move on and love someone else and be happy again."

No no no, I said. No way! The very idea was repugnant. And after Rich passed, I felt I'd been blessed to have him in my life and a love like that only happens once in a lifetime. But then it happened again...and that story is coming up.

Sugar's gone whacko

I feel like I've been sick since Christmas. Anyway, TB and I were at the doctor's again about 10 days ago for more antibiotics. I was starting to feel better until Friday or Saturday and now it's like it's all starting over again. My sugar's been really high, in the mid 200s which is worrying me some. Now I have to go back to the doctor again and see what next. I'm taking metformin but it's the lowest dose (I think) so I suppose the doctor will tell me to take more of it. I'm curious to learn more about byetta. TB takes it along with his other meds. It has to be injected but I won't mind if it'll help.

The doctor wants my cousin to use it. She has a pre-diabetes condition. She's reluctant to use it because of the needle. Frankly, if my doctor suggested to me before I became diabetic I would have used it no problem. I guess I'm more inured to the sight of a needle from watching TB inject himself several times a day every day.

Beets

Flashback: I'm in the grocery store with my parents. I'm of preschool age, maybe 4. I remember we were going down the baby food aisle and my parents got some jars for my brother, who would have been between 1 and 2. They weren't buying any beets! I remember sneaking some jars into the cart. My parents were totally shocked to see them as we were checking out. How did they get there? And why? I loved baby food beets and missed having them. I guess I didn't realize they'd notice.

Why did I have this memory? Probably because I have to limit the amount of beets I eat because they are sweet and now I am diabetic. I guess it triggered the memory because I realized that was probably why I'd loved them so much when I was little...they were sweet! Beets just doesn't seem the kind of food a kid would like otherwise, right?

Diabetes

In the years since Rich died, I've put on an enormous amount of weight. In the back of my mind I knew I was at risk for diabetes, high blood pressure, heart attack and all kinds of other unpleasantries. The thought would come to the front of my mind and I'd worry so much, I'd end up gaining more weight instead of losing it. So I kept putting it to the back of my head hoping I'd get the weight off before it was too late.

I look back at the weight I gained after I stopped smoking and had kids and I remember the midwife saying to me if I didn't get all of it off again before 40 I would have a lot of trouble from it.

Yup.

I think I was in pretty good shape 5 years ago. Now I have high blood pressure, a collapsed arch, fibromyalgia, painful joints...and diabetes.

I haven't been feeling well or myself lately and went to the doctors, my OBGYN first. She is the one who discovered that my blood sugar was very high and so I went to my family doctor. I hadn't had any blood work in about a year and so I went and had blood drawn a few days ago. I got the results in the mail today and boy, that sugar is really high! I also noticed my cholesterol is above normal.

Funny...I was just talking to the therapist about how to prod myself into getting my act together. What can I say to myself to make me get serious about all this?

And she said, "How about...'I don't want to die'?"

Yeah, that's a good one!

This is not going to be easy. I found a quote that I'm going to repeat to myself by Winston Churchill: "Never never never give up."

Rite of Passage

If I'd known then what I know now ...

When I moved back to NY in 1980, I developed a friendship with Toni. Toni took care of my grandmother when her health was failing. At the time we became friends, Toni was 50--the same age as my mom. Toni was totally different, though, vivacious and fun and a total nut. It was so much fun to be around her. Well, there was one thing Toni would bring up and that was whether she was pregnant or in menopause. I thought she was a little obsessive about it. She'd say she hadn't gotten her period in a couple of months, she didn't know what was going on with her period and so on. I thought, geez, it'd be such a wonderful thing, why complain about it when you are period free for months at a time?

Heh. Now I know.

It's like when I first started my period--I was irregular and never knew when I would get it. In a way, it was a little nerve wracking because back in the day of the dinosaur, there was no tampons (at least, not that I was aware of at my young age) and when I first began getting it, I was a tomboy. I didn't carry a purse. My mom would say, always carry a pad with you "In case". So I had to start carting a purse around which was very annoying to me.

Soon after Rich died, I began skipping periods. I was 46 and figured it was all the stress and grief. My doctor thought it was possible but that I might also be "peri-menopausal". That's no picnic, believe me. In the last year or two, I've gone from skipping a period every other month to going up to 6 months without one. Meanwhile, I still have PMS-type symptoms, especially the emotional mood swings. All that was missing is the mess. I had a blood test that showed that yes, I'm in that lovely transitional phase of menopause.

I totally sympathize with what Archie said to Edith in the classic All in the Family series. Okay, Edith, he said (or something like it), you've got 5 minutes...now change!

One thing--once I have gone a full year without a period, that's it. I think.

I just haven't gotten there yet. The last time I'd gotten a period was when we were in Tennessee. That was a lot of fun--I wasn't expecting it (I think I'd gone 6 months at that point) and had to get to a store. Yeesh.

And now it's back.

My counselor says, don't worry, in 2 years you'll be feeling much better.

Dang, I'd rather change in 5 minutes!

Well, duh!

Yes, I'm reading and watching the news again. This, though, is a step in the right direction. My mother suffered from depression. Sometimes she would go into these scary rages which I have only recently learned is a symptom of depression too. When I was a teenager, I developed panic attacks. I thought I was losing my mind. I went on my own to a doctor when I was about 22. At that time--1976--there was no name for panic attacks. The doctor, though, told me that I was definitely depressed.

Lo and behold, it runs in families! I'm not surprised but I am saddened (as a mom would be) that my daughter is depressed too.

Mental health has a stigma attached to it. Until recently, health insurance companies either didn't cover it or just paid a fraction of the cost. If you needed to be hospitalized, the insurance company wouldn't pay for more than a 1-2 week stay. Many years, I was inadequately insured for mental health issues and so either I didn't get help or I had to go to a clinic. Those were the sorts of places I had to take my daughter to.

Therapists don't stay very long in places like that...and guess what? Patients need consistency so they can develop trust with a therapist! It sucks to start out with someone and then 6 months later they are leaving for a better job somewhere else.

And now comes this article ... and wouldn't it have been nice if this kind of thinking was prevalent when my kids were very small? Or even when I was very small?

Treating Moms' Depression May Help Kids

By LINDSEY TANNER, AP Medical Writer

CHICAGO - Treating a mother's depression can help prevent it and other disorders in her child, say researchers in a provocative study that may influence family health care.

It's the first time doctors have documented what might seem like common sense, but the results have potentially big public health implications, the study authors and other experts say.

"It's a very dramatic and important finding," said co-author Dr. A. John Rush, a psychiatry professor at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center.

Depression runs in families and has a strong genetic component, but environmental factors can trigger it. The study results indicate that for children of depressed mothers, that trigger is sometimes their mothers' illness acting up, said lead author Myrna Weissman, a researcher at Columbia University and New York Psychiatric Institute.

Effective treatment for mothers could mean their children might avoid the need for prescription antidepressants, the researchers said.

"Depressed parents should be treated vigorously. It's a two-fer — the impact is not only on them but it's also on their children," Weissman said.

In the study, those children whose mothers' depression disappeared during three months of treatment were much less likely to be diagnosed with depression, anxiety or behavior problems than those whose mothers did not improve.

The results are "very plausible and very convincing and very useful," said Dr. Nada Stotland, vice president of the American Psychiatric Association and a psychiatry professor at Rush Medical College in Chicago.

"Our society gives a lot of lip service to how important mothers are but in fact we don't always appreciate just how profound their effects on their children are," said Stotland, who was not involved in the study.

While mothers often tend to put their own needs last, this research "is a good argument for them to take care of themselves first," she said. "It's a little like putting your own oxygen mask on first on the airplane. If you can't breathe, you can't help anybody."

The study appears in Wednesday's Journal of the American Medical Association and involved 114 depressed women assessed after three months of treatment. Of the 114 children participants, aged 11 to 12 on average, 68 had no psychiatric disorder when their mothers began treatment.

Thirty-eight women went into complete remission from depression during treatment, which for most was Forest Laboratories' antidepressant Celexa.

Forest supplied the drug and several study authors have financial ties to other antidepressant makers, but the study was funded by grants from the National Institute of Mental Health.

Among children with psychiatric problems, the remission rate was 33 percent after three months for those whose mothers recovered versus 12 percent among those whose mothers did not.

Among children without psychiatric problems at the outset, all whose mothers recovered also remained healthy, whereas 17 percent of those whose mothers remained depressed were diagnosed with psychiatric problems by the study's end.

Weissman said similar results likely would occur with different drugs and/or psychotherapy. She also believes findings would be similar with depressed fathers, although none were studied.

Dr. Peter Robbins, a Fairfax, Va., psychiatrist, said he's seen similar results in his pediatric practice, and not just with depression.

For example, children with attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder often have similarly afflicted parents. Getting treatment for the parents yields improvement in the children's symptoms, he said.

The study underscores "that taking care of the kid means taking care of the whole family," Robbins said.

Bookoholic

Not too long ago, I wrote that I was a blogoholic. Well, I'm even more of a bookoholic. Let me walk into a bookstore or a library and I never leave unladen with books. I was spending a lot of money at places like Borders and so I took a vow to just borrow books from the library. The problem was, I had to have six at a time. When it was time to return the books, I'd finished 3, needed to renew 3 and ended up getting another 6. It wasn't long before I was running up fines because I'd forget which books had been renewed and had to be returned earlier.

The library started selling paperbacks and hardbacks for anywhere from a quarter to a dollar. I was borrowing and buying books. At book sales, TB and I would walk out with boxes (think a carton sized box that would hold reams of paper) of books. The librarians would look at us and say, "Oh, dear, how many books do you think are in there? We'll take your word for it." We'd give them $10 or $15 a box. We both made out because invariably we had like 50 books in the boxes.

These books are like tribbles!. We started out with 2 bookcases and quickly ran out of room. Now we have books stacked everywhere, in and out of plain sight.

I discovered Boock Crossing. What a great concept! You read a book and then "release it into the wild" (meaning you leave it lying out somewhere for someone to pick up) or you send it to someone who's been wanting to read it by consulting a "wish list". I was very happy because I was reading books and then sending them on. If I'd stayed off the forums, I might have my book-mania more under control.

Unfortunately, I read some posts on the forum and learned about an online book trading site, Paper Back Swap You list nine books with them and then you can ask for one from someone else's list. The only cost is in mailing the book to the requester. Well, I have sent out about 2 dozen books--and received back 26. Now I have gotten into their box-o-books.

My to-be-read pile has become larger than the books I've already read!

Is there no hope? TB and I took Kristin to Borders so she could spend some of her birthday money. I should have stayed in the car but no, I told myself I'd just browse. Borders has a 3-for-2 table...why is it so up front? Of course I was able to find 3 books I would love to read...hopefully by the end of this decade!

I think I just have to give up buying and trading books for the Lenten season--but March is just too far away!

Blog-o-holic

Yep, that's what I am, and not just because I try to write everyday. I have blogs all over the place, serving different purposes. Why don't I just combine them into one blog so it's less confusing? Because then I feel like the one blog would be a disorganized mess!

What I decided to do, though, was move some of them to this website, Mrs. Spratt and I'm A Coda. Mrs. Spratt focuses on my weight loss struggles and I'm A Coda is simply what I remember of growing up with deaf parents. It would be totally confusing if I mixed all those entries into one blog! I'm pretty much happy with the way I'm A Coda looks but am still futzing with the Mrs. Spratt template. Soon, soon...

Unconscious Mutterings

I say...and you think...

1. Taking sides:: choosing one over the other
2. Couples::two
3. Right of refusal:: you can't make me take it
4. Marla::Shriver
5. Mutliple:: many
6. Trinity:: three
7. Sneeze:: achoo
8. Sweatpants:: comfy
9. Steve:: Winwood
10. Fabulous:: wonderful

Love My New Look!

TB didn't have any work today so he helped me with my template and I love the way my blog looks now! I think it's a keeper!

I think Heidi and I are a lot alike in many ways. I think I was rather pessimistic when I was younger but somehow I learned to look for "the silver lining"...maybe it takes years to see that bad times are followed by good times and you have to learn to appreciate them when it happens. I got this in my email today and it's something I would share with my half-empty glass child:

Healthy Aging Tip: Coping with Negative Thoughts

Are you a "glass half empty" or a "glass half full" kind of person? Research shows that looking at the positive side of things is better for your health - optimists have been shown to do better than pessimists in almost every aspect of life, including how well their immune systems function. If you tend to be negative, there is good news: Optimism can be learned. The process begins with the identification of self-defeating thoughts. Once you become aware of habitual thoughts that lead to negative emotions, you can begin to substitute positive ones. For example, whenever you notice yourself ruminating on a negative theme like, "I am worthless and this latest setback just confirms it," you can consciously substitute, "This setback is just something that happened; I will get through it, because I am capable and resilient." A trained cognitive-behavioral therapist can help you in your process of viewing the world in a positive light.

It's true that thinking negative thoughts most of the time will make you sick, I can testify to that. Some of my health problems just might be a result of cumulative negative thoughts over the years. One thing I noticed was that when something "bad" (like financial trouble) happened, I would get into an intestinal and emotional uproar, worrying and wondering 'why me?' Things always eventually sorted out...and there I'd gone through all that upset and made myself sick. Was it worth it? NO. I wish I could convince Heidi that this is so.

Thursday Threesome:

Onesome: "Certainly-- is there anything in life you are "certain" about? Firm in your beliefs? Strong in your convictions? Tell us...

I am certain that Jesus is my Savior, that I love TB and he loves me, that I love my kids & grandkids and they love me.

Twosome: Worth-- what do you value? What people or projects are "worth your time"?

My life, my health, my husband, my kids, honesty, other people--it's a long list

Threesome: the Drive-- and from where you live, can you "get" to places easily? Is it an event to drive to the store? Do you live in a metropolis where everything is close?

Almost everything is at least a 20 minute drive away!

Ten Things I Want For Christmas

Ten on Tuesday

1. Peace in the house
2. a walkman so I can tune in to the TV when I exercise
3. Celtic music--not Christmas music, but other kinds
4. Irish tie dye T shirt from the catalogue
5. Irish sweatshirt or poncho or cape
6. Any lavender or burgundy sweat shirt with cats, cardinals, butterflies or flowers on them
7. More picture frames for the kids' artwork so I can hang them up OR new pictures of the grandkids!
8. one of those hand held computer planner things that TB and Billy both have
9. Computer puzzle games...like: alchemy, Super Collapse II, Diamond Mine, Noah's Ark, Twistingo, Family Feud etc.
10. Cinderella Man