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Archive for the ‘Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country’ Category

I remember the first time I went to see my regular doctor at UVA for a general physical exam. The Bride had recommended him and it turns out he is a real life Dr McDreamy. Handsome and smart, plenty of time to answer my questions, not in any rush to shoo me out the door. Maybe this is what academic medicine is all about? I was surprised that he ordered tests for blood and bone density, mammography – and he didn’t actually touch me. I guess my Irish ancestors get the prize for giving me all the right numbers in blood pressure, and remember I didn’t come in with a problem. But my first surprise was the nursing assessment before Dr McDreamy walked in; she asked me if, “I feel safe at home?”

Bob tells me that this is a relatively new question in the battery of things we patients must divulge when we are putting our lives into the hands of someone. I understood, I suppose if I was a battered and abused woman maybe I’d feel safe enough here to break down and tell? It made me wonder what protocol they use if a woman or man answered that question in a different way. How much do we drink, do we smoke, and btw how do we feel in our home? I remember when Bob worked on a baby who had drowned in a hot tub. I’m pretty sure they weren’t asking questions back then about pools and hot tubs.

Last month I accompanied the Love Bug to her 4 month Peds check-up. How’s the nursing going, sleeping? And political junkie that I am, I thought about the small battle that was waged last year to gag doctors in FL. Legislators there were fighting to silence their pediatricians’ general wellness questions; in particular, one question, “Are there guns in the home?” Yes sir, politics has slipped inside that HIPPA protected wall of the doctor/patient relationship – one I liken to a priest/confessor – and is yet again telling our health care professionals what to do.

“The way some doctors see it, asking patients whether they own a gun is no more politically loaded than any other health-related question they ask. So when a Florida law that prohibited them from discussing gun ownership with patients passed last year, they moved to fight it. A federal judge issued a permanent injunction blocking enforcement of the law in July.” http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2012/11/27/165985266/taking-aim-at-restrictions-on-medical-questions-about-gun-ownership

I relaxed. I thought this will never do, it just can’t happen, if a federal judge in FL blocked this inane law, then it’s over. But no, it isn’t over.
http://edition.cnn.com/video/#/video/bestoftv/2013/01/09/ac-acosta-gupta-health-care-guns.cnn?iref=allsearch

A little known 5 sentence provision was slipped onto the end of the Affordable Care Act. Legislators agreed to slash the language of the bill until all health care professionals could do was ask about guns – there is to be

NO documenting of their conversation about guns,
NO collection of data on guns, and
NO research on gun ownership as it relates to injuries…

Legislators argued and preened around the policy, taking out the part about doctors being jailed if they so much as ask about guns, or even losing their license. As many as 8 states are still fighting to reinstate this criminal provision. Remember the good old days when all we worried about was a transvaginal ultrasound? http://edition.cnn.com/video/#/video/bestoftv/2013/01/09/ac-acosta-gupta-health-care-guns.cnn?iref=allsearch

Why should we care? 1 in 5 deaths of children in our country under age 20 is directly related to firearms – 1 in 5. In a 2 year study, for children ages 5 – 14, guns were shown to be the third leading cause of death. And now, the powerful NRA has basically stopped all research into this public health and safety problem. Let the newspapers print the names and addresses of gun owners. How many more rights are we willing to give up for the almighty money of the gun lobby?

Here is a picture of the graffiti that has appeared on our new bridge over the Rivanna River. “Love” on one side, and “Peace and Faith” on the other. I hope it stays there for awhile, that free speech travels upriver.
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Busy, busy weekend; but the best so far this year! True to my resolutions, I started off with some slow flow Vinyasa yoga at Studio 206, followed up by a dose of slow knitting at the Needle Lady. Even managed to have some famous Peanut Tofu soup at Rev Soup for lunch. But wait, the best is yet to come…last night I attended the Paramount Theatre’s simulcast showing of the first episode of the 3rd season of, tada, Downton Abbey!

You probably already know I’m addicted. And I’ve never really been addicted to a television show before, well maybe a fling with Grey’s Anatomy? But this is serious: I’ve watched episodes I missed online; sat through the 1st season again (on Netflix) when the Love Bug was born just to ensnare my daughter in its spell; I bought the 2nd season on disc to watch over Christmas with the Bride, fueling her addiction and mine; and I’ve read everything I can get my hands on about the PBS Masterpiece Classic http://www.npr.org/2013/01/03/167528679/downton-abbey-cast-its-more-fun-downstairs.

But last night was a girl’s night out, and some of us dressed to the nines for the occasion! I had a long velvet skirt in my closet, and an old rust colored silk jacket that I topped with a tulle millenary confection!photo copy Felt so very Lady Grantham. Kay Parker is one of my first friends in VA, and she drove our little group of 4 to the Downtown Mall where we met up with my friend Karen and her daughter-in-law Kath. Grown women totally excited to see what will become of Bates and the wedding of Lady Mary and Matthew Crawley. I won’t give anything away, except to say that I adore the Irish chauffeur Tom who stole the youngest Lady Sybil away and we all hissed at the evil valet Thomas. And of course Maggie Smith is sublime!
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/downtonabbey/

Why do we Yankees love it so? Because it has everything, Shakespearian drama mixed at just the right spot in history. We all secretly love the royals and their quirky landed gentry precisely because we waged a war to separate from them. A Turkish diplomat dies and a scandal is averted, but just barely. A generation returns from WWI and suddenly a life of service doesn’t seem all that great. Cars are replacing horses. Fortunes are lost and others are won. The same themes of life and love, and particularly last night, loyalty, ring true today. Sometimes we all need to be reminded whose side we are on. A good story will resonate with us forever, so thank you Julian Fellowes. Thank you for imagining these characters and putting pen to paper.

Here are the 3 “K”s – Kay, Karen and Kath http://www.katheats.com!
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My news sabbatical is over. While nursing this cold I’ve taken to watching CNN in the morning with my oatmeal, tylenol and Vicks scented tissues. And somehow I thought that maybe everything on a Facebook news feed wasn’t necessarily true. Yet there it was, a story I’d merely glanced at online because it made my stomache churn, was now being reported as fact on morning TV: http://edition.cnn.com/2013/01/04/justice/ohio-rape-online-video/index.html?hpt=hp_t3

This story hits all the wrong notes – the high school football team of Steubenville, Ohio is somehow implicated in a gang rape of an unconscious 16 year old girl. Two 16 year old football players are identified and charged with rape, but the real question is was the town and its police force trying to cover this up since it happened in August? And what sets this rape apart from any other is the evidence; it’s not just he said, she said. A hacking activist group called Anonymous has posted video of a drunken boy boasting about the crime, along with pictures of the girl…which is why I saw it online before national media picked it up.

Now juxtapose these two images: CNN reporters interviewing Steubenville shopkeepers about how we mustn’t judge the whole town by the actions of a few, with the protests from India. A 23 year old medical student died after being brutally gang raped on a bus in New Delhi on December 16th. There have been daily protests in the streets since that day calling for justice and the men to be hanged. Five, possibly six men have been charged with “… murder, kidnapping and rape… voluntarily causing harm during a robbery, armed robbery with murder, and destruction of evidence.” http://edition.cnn.com/2013/01/03/world/asia/india-rape-case/index.html?hpt=wo_c2

I know our legislators have much to do after their first day back on the Hill. They must keep kicking the can down the road of fiscal temerity; they must agree with some form of realistic gun control; they have to pass a budget, and oh BTW, thanks for that last minute Super Storm Sandy pass…on the heels of your humiliating first vote. And it saddens me that Congress could not reauthorize the 2012 version of the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA). It seems the GOP balked when language was added to include “…expanded provisions to protect victims even if they’re gay, illegal immigrants or Native Americans living in tribal jurisdictions.” Rumor has it that R-VA Eric Cantor balked at the LGBT provisions, but a rape is a rape is a rape, no matter who you are or where you live. I am hopeful that the increasing number of women in the new 113th Congress can make this happen.
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1) To get serious about yoga

2) To cook more tofu

3) To walk more, even if it’s cold

4) To do something that scares me (Karaoke?)

5) To laugh loudly and often

I’ve never been a New Year’s resolution type. I used to attend the Borough Hall Annual Reorganization Meeting at noon on New Year’s Day and take copious notes through a hangover haze for the newspaper. “Each year at the Reorganization Meeting, the Council adopts a resolution setting the order of business for each Council meeting.” It takes forever, so and so police officer was awarded something; the zoning plans have changed to reflect such and such.

But now I’m only required to attend a hospital gala on New Year’s Eve, to dress to the nines and make merry at a local winery. I can sleep in without children at home or a care in the world…well, maybe a few.

I have a cold. It’s not the flu, got the shot, but some bugs got through to make my nose run and my throat scratchy. Bob is working, so I’m on my own to push fluids and make my own chicken soup. I managed to try my second martini in 40-something years last night, and decided it still tastes like gasoline. I thought it might help my throat, and the 2 sips I took did seem to numb my tonsils.

My order of business for 2013 is staying true to my philosophy of small steps. In order to grow, we must change and challenge ourselves, to do something scary. Notice I didn’t resolve to go to the gym and lose 20 pounds – just to walk… even in the cold and cook tofu. To quiet my mind with yoga and lighten my heart with laughter. The Love Bug is learning to laugh, and just being with her brings me great joy.

I wish you all a peaceful and joyous New Year! We may not be able to influence those in Congress today who are playing games with our country’s reputation in the world, but we can vote them out tomorrow. And we can start the New Year introspectively, as the Dalai Lama says, “The inner peace of an alert and calm mind are the source of real happiness and good health. Our human intelligence tells us which of our emotions are positive and helpful and which are damaging and to be restrained or avoided.”
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There’s snow on the ridgeline this morning. I’m back in my mountain home after 10 hours on the road with my 4 month old Bug and her parents. She did well for about 7 hours with many stops, which is 1 hour more than my limit in a car. And yesterday I did the hand off to the other set of grandparents for their New Year’s week visit. In the midst of this transition, after my long stretch of babysitting, I had a nightmare.

The Bride was leaning back on the balcony of a large white iconic building (hospital?) and she fell slowly over the edge. I watched incredulously but could not reach her in time. When I looked over, she was hanging on by her fingertips. “Help her!” I yelled at Bob and then promptly woke up in a sweat. She had worked 5 straight nights in a row (including Christmas Eve and Christmas) and before that, 4 daytime shifts. Shift work takes its toll on a body, just ask any nurse or police officer.

“Society is oriented toward traditional daytime work hours and work at night will often intensify fatigue and reduce alertness. Workers generally will not acclimate to night work, and sleep patterns will generally be disrupted so the non-work periods do not provide full recovery, resulting in sleep deprivation. Studies suggest that it can take up to 10 days to adapt to a night time work schedule.” http://www.osha.gov/OshDoc/data_Hurricane_Facts/faq_longhours.html

When I was writing about normal holiday stress, I didn’t factor in having to change your circadian rhythm or nursing a 4 month old baby. I always joked that Bob became a director because he didn’t want to work nights; only it’s not a joke. He won’t do nights, he sleeps…at night. If he met a doc who wanted to work nights, he would hire him/her immediately. Keep this in mind future EM residents, if you are a night owl, you have an advantage.

Naturally, the Love Bug is off her schedule. Babies will change it up just when you figure it out, but this little nugget has been in 2 different homes the last few days and her mama was away many nights and sleeping-in many mornings. I tried to explain it all to her, I told her that she can be very proud of her mommy for saving lives. I told her that things will get better in the New Year. Her daddy and I did our best to play guitar and sing her to sleep at night. Hang on baby girl. Our country may sail over a cliff, but your mama is on solid ground.

My big news of Christmas week is the birth of 2 brand new baby girls! Congratulations and welcome to the world Great Nieces’ Francesca Lynn and Evan Margot. Have a very happy and healthy New Year everyone!
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Someone once told me that you have to live in a place for at least 10 years before it becomes home. When I was young, I called Victory Gardens home. It was a development in NJ for the support staff that worked at an arsenal during WWII. It was meant to be temporary; four rooms and one bath made out of concrete. We lived on Washington Avenue, all the streets were named after presidents. I would dream about this house for years, because this is where I learned what love is.

When you marry an Emergency Physician, you also learn to love moving. It was never easy. I’ve made friends in other states that will never be replaced, the kinds of friends who know where the spoons are in your kitchen. Women who would supply all the flowers and food for the Rocker’s bris without ever asking or saying a word about it. Women who would show up to escort an au pair to the train station, thereby saving her from physical harm and me from an arrest record.

And I learned to love each place. The snowy farmhouse at the edge of a bird sanctuary in the Berkshires. The brick, mid-century modern between two rivers on the Jersey Shore. And I’m learning to love my view of the Blue Ridge, on the cusp of Mr Jefferson’s Monticello and his Academical Village. This is the place where the Bride met her Groom and now the next generation is just beginning. They are making their home in the Music City and the Rocker and Ms Cait are feathering a new nest after super storm Sandy.

“Home” is the best gift we can give our children. That feeling that we belong, that we are loved unconditionally. It doesn’t matter where we find ourselves today. We were all tucked in our beds, in TN, VA and NJ. Well except for the Bride. Santa found her anyway. Wishing you all a warm and lovely Christmas.
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While I was searching for some old pictures, I pulled down a big Frye boot box from the top of my closet. Inside I discovered the purple sweater that my Nana knit, probably around the turn of the last century. It was chock full of cables, an Aryan style, and since I knew it was a tight fit at 16, almost six decades later I didn’t have to try it on. I want to give it to the Bride; and I want to teach the Love Bug how to knit like a laidback knitter when she gets older!

Yesterday I walked into the Haus of Yarn in search of a certain size needle and walked out with this book, “10 Secrets of the Laidback Knitters, A Guide to Holistic Knitting, Yarn and Life,” by Vicki Stiefel and Lisa Souza. Post Christmas sales were in the air, (as in, “Come back on Wednesday when everything is half off”) and a woman was delivering a big box from Nothing Bundt Cakes, http://www.nothingbundtcakes.com I love this knitting store, they had fudge in the back and invited me to their Thursday night knit club. Back to the book, there are all different kinds of knitters, on a spectrum from the up-tight anxious type seeking perfection all the way to someone who knits in a recliner and doesn’t mind a dropped stitch.

I have to admit, I don’t like making mistakes, but I’m aware that what I want to be is a laidback knitter. And now I know how! I may never do any spinning or roving, but I do know where most of the yarn I use comes from. And I can still walk down the road to the Rivanna River Alpaca farm and say “Hey” to my friend DeeDee. Her animals make the softest fiber in the world. Thanks to The Knitting Lady, I don’t fear dropping stitches or even ripping out rows of wool with abandon. I can say with satisfaction, I am the slowest knitter ever! “Slow” in the sense of the slow food movement; and to be fair, in the sense of time spent on a project…

Have a slow moving Sunday y’all. As our President said, “Drink some eggnog.” I’m working on a rosy pink dress for my little Bout de Chou – translation “tiny piece of cauliflower!” I intend to keep knitting…and writing about gun control, in light of the tone deaf statements of the NRA. Let’s bring our voices to Washington via petitions, phone calls and those really hard to ignore, snail mail letters. Slow and steady will win this race.
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Here I am, inbetween the Love Bug’s morning nap and her Mama coming home from a night shift at the hospital. It’s raining so I guess there will be no trip in the Big Bob stroller to the bagel store for lunch. The diapers were all washed (yes, she wears real cloth diapers) and put away with care, in hopes that St Nick will visit the Music City and find this new, wee one. It’s stranger still that I wrote about holiday stress right before the unthinkable shooting in CT, and now it feels like happiness may be harder to come by this holiday season for the whole country. Why did I turn on CNN this morning to hear that some savvy business is selling bullet-proof backpacks? And others are talking about teaching teachers to handle a gun. So along with learning how to administer an EpiPen shot for the occasional peanut allergy, who thinks we should require teachers to attend a shooting range?

Let’s give ourselves a break – a news break and a happiness boost. This is a short and sweet article about the 5 things you can do to increase your happiness. Or rather, the five mistakes people make; the lies we tell ourselves in order to achieve some sort peace. So by inverse reasoning, you should be able to just stop doing these things and smile. I was intrigued to find there is just one lie I tell myself:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/12/19/how-to-be-happy-in-life-happiness_n_2287903.html?1355931524&ncid=edlinkusaolp00000009#slide=1875204

#3 “It shouldn’t be work!”

I’m not happy because it’s just too darn hard to be happy. The author, Amy Shearn talks about her friend who is very Eeyore-like, “…terrible things befall her constantly, confirming her belief that the world is a grim place. Her Eeyore-ish, “Oh bother”-ness is so much a part of her that she seems to think happiness is simply not for her, as if some people were just Eeyores and some were just Pooh Bears (happy, simple, kind of dumb).”
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So it’s good to remember that happiness actually takes some work, keeping up with our friends – and not just texting them. Taking time to help those in need – like the therapy dogs that walked into Newton and stole their hearts. Just getting out of our own heads for a time will improve any old rainy day!

The Bride has returned and when I told her I was writing about happiness, she smiled at me and said, “Like being a Grandmother?” So true baby girl!! photo

Here are the other 4 lies:
1) Happiness will come after my big success
2) My happiness comes in a box from Amazon
3) Happy people never quit
4) There’s no point in asking the universe for what I want

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It’s that time of year. Flu season. The Love Bug’s nanny doesn’t believe in vaccinations – or flu shots – I know. So I’m starting my Christmas love fest with the Grand Baby a little early. I packed the car, finished up an audio book, and rolled into the Music City just in time to see her waking up from a nap! Image

And this old reporter is taking a news sabbatical. I’m happy to hear that the President and Congress may be revisiting that assault weapon ban. That Morning Joe has had a change of heart. That Dick’s Sporting Goods are pulling some of their guns off the shelves. Sixteen year olds at Columbine, twenty-somethings in Blacksburg; but the tipping point had to be 6 year olds in Newtown. My Tangerine Tango editor, Lisa Winkler, was a beat reporter in Danbury, CT. Her blog post hit home for me. http://cyclingrandma.wordpress.com/2012/12/16/newtown-ct-my-town-your-town-our-town/

On my way across TN, I stopped at a Drive-Thru of Christmas Lights extraordinaire, and of course took an Instagram picture for my family followers.Image

Still reading some news today (sworn off TV news), I read this:http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-20767537

“Facebook’s photo-sharing site Instagram has updated its privacy policy giving it the right to sell users’ photos to advertisers without notification. Unless users delete their Instagram accounts by a deadline of 16 January, they cannot opt out.”

Seems more and more like we are living in an Orwellian world. 

 

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“If I am not for myself, then who will be for me?”

But I don’t want to know his name
Or that he wore combat armour
That he lived with his mother
Or they seemed like a normal family

I don’t want to know the number
The size or make of the guns
Or that there will be 20 brighter
Stars in heaven this Christmas

I don’t want to know “Why”
What motivated a man to
Wake up one morning and
Cowardly mow down children

Because it doesn’t matter
All that doesn’t begin to explain
The unexplainable or to stem
The tide of grief and anguish
Still to come in this nightmare

What matters is that we
Wake Up
And take a collective sigh
And make gun violence a priority

“And if I am only for myself, then what am I?”
https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/petition/immediately-address-issue-gun-control-through-introduction-legislation-congress/2tgcXzQC
“The signatures on this petition represent a collective demand for a bipartisan discussion resulting in a set of laws that regulates how a citizen obtains a gun.”

Our society will always have mentally ill people; they will go to a classroom at VA Tech or Columbine High School, they will walk into a shopping mall or a movie theatre. They will get into a taxi, then stroll into a parking lot and shoot a congresswoman. I must be crazy to think that the overwhelming factor in this national carnage isn’t the shooter – so let’s lock all our doors and live in fear, and btw let’s arm ourselves?

NO, the problem is GUNS…the abundance of guns in our country and their easy access. The United States loses 87 people a day to gun violence. Yesterday we lost 27 people in a small New England town, including the shooter and his mother. Let’s not play the blame game, and ask how he got into the school, or if somebody heard his threats. Without those guns in his hands, he would have injured his mother, with a knife or a heavy object or his own hands, and maybe, just maybe that would have been all? We place second in the world to gun ownership per citizen, next to Yemen.
http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2012/07/20/gun-violence.html

“If I am not for myself, then who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, then what am I? And if not now, when?” Rabbi Hillel
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