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Posts Tagged ‘Twins’

Quackery

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 26, 2025| 4 Comments »

There’s a chill in the air! My neighbor Les has moved, the Bat Mitzvah is fast approaching, and the Twins have turned six months. I’m never very good with change, but the cooler temperatures are certainly welcome. I’ve packed away my swimsuits and Bob and I are ready for our Fall jabs – you know, the annual Influenza and Covid vaccines. We wanted to get them a little early since the Love Bug’s big day will be full of friends and family fresh off airplanes. But guess what?

No such luck.

The 2025 Covid booster has been approved and manufactured in the US, except for some odd reason (RFK Jr) they have NOT been distributed yet! The Covid booster is nowhere to be found. Oh well, but if you search around, you might be able to find last year’s Covid vaccine… I hear the new flu shot is available though, which is great news since the L’il Pumpkin just found out the friend he played soccer with after school yesterday has the flu. Yep, flu and Covid are ramping up in Nashville.

And then I bumped into this article: “As Trump Weighs IVF, Republicans Back ‘New Natural’ Approach to Infertility.” https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/21/us/politics/trump-ivf-restorative-reproductive-medicine.html?unlocked_article_code=1.hE8.b_ok.-tvmuQ3oUKjI&smid=url-share

Just when you think the MAHA movement can’t get any wonkier, when you realize that the Kennedy name has lost its lustre, the GOP decides to push “restorative reproductive medicine.” After Mr T promised to make IVF available for everyone on the campaign trail, Christian Conservatives are having trouble dealing with those pesky, left-over embryos. It all started with Alabama’s Supreme Court Decision last year calling embryos “unborn children located outside of a biological uterus.” So they’ve come up with an alternative – they believe couples should look at the ‘root causes’ of infertility, like endometriosis or say environmental factors.

Hey, Catholics have been pushing a “natural” method of birth control for centuries. Why not return to the 19th Century, where charlatans in traveling caravans sold snake oil? Where polio and measles and flu killed thousands upon thousands of children each year. I’ve stopped making jokes about RFK Jr’s parasitic brain worm, but I still think that making him Secretary of the US Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) was a cringe-worthy, dirty trick. Here are just a few of his baseless views:

 “Wi-Fi causes cancer and “leaky brain”; that school shootings are attributable to antidepressants; that chemicals in water can lead to children becoming transgender; and that AIDS may not be caused by HIV. He’s also long said that vaccines cause autism and fail to protect people from diseases.”

And speaking of school shootings, our Grands had a bomb threat at their school the first week back, complete with FBI agents and bomb-sniffing dogs. It turned out to be nothing, but is terrifying none-theless. I remembered waiting for the all clear from a lockdown at the Twins’ NICU in the spring. The Twins are currently loving solid food! And thanks to the miracle of IVF and our iPhones, we can watch them in happy baby pose and rolling over, trying to crawl. After their measles vaccine, they will be able to travel on a plane!

That is, if our country can manage to stay in the 21st Century.


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Speaking of Death in Bed

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 11, 2025| Leave a Comment »

Last night Bob and I were just sharing some pillow talk before drifting off to sleep, when the subject somehow turned to last wishes. Bob has seen his fair share of dead and nearly-dead bodies over many decades working in an Emergency Room. I have not. Still, I’m used to his pragmatic approach to end of life discussions; I don’t however, appreciate discussing the inevitable in the cozy comfort of our bed right after turning out the light!

I may have been telling him about the memoir I’d just finished reading,

It’s a novel by one of my favorite writers Geraldine Brooks. She wrote “Horse” which I passed around to all my friends in Nashville. But “Memorial Days” is her latest work and dives into the sudden loss of her husband, Tony Horwitz, at the young age of 60. She was right in the middle of writing “Horse” in fact when he collapsed on a street alone in a Washington, DC suburb while she was at home, alone, on Martha’s Vineyard.

She writes about the resident who calls her at the end of his shift with the news – his perfunctory answers, the background noise, his rush to get off the phone. She writes about having to delay her grief in order to deal with her sons and planning two memorials – one for their friends on the Vineyard and one in DC for his family and colleagues. Tony was a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, on a book tour in his hometown. She writes honestly, with words that cut deep into my soul.

Last night, I asked Bob about our insurance coverage, leading us down the yellow brick road to who might “go” first. It seems that Brooks’ medical insurance abruptly terminated the day after her husband died… without informing her. For a month she and her children were not covered, which naturally infuriated her. Like most Aussies, Brooks cannot understand how a medical catastrophe could bankrupt a family. And I thought about meeting a new Republican family member years ago who said to our dismay, “But we have the best health-care in the world.”

I came across this article while drinking my coffee, “So Much for the Best Health Care System in the World,” in the Atlantic. The GOP has not stopped opposing universal healthcare, but they are using a different tactic.

“Republicans haven’t given up their opposition to universal coverage—far from it—but they have mostly stopped singing the praises of American health-care innovation. Indeed, they are taking a meat axe to it, slashing medical-research funding while elevating quacks and charlatans to positions of real power. The resulting synthesis is the worst of all worlds: a system that will lose its ability to develop new cures, while withholding its benefits from even more of the poor and sick.” https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2025/08/trump-republicans-health-innovation/683795/?gift=MZkyOCULmn5OA_9_ikIP-9_sqlI0wYN6ADUWpCxNFxU&utm_source=copy-link&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=share

My sweet husband sensed that our conversation was veering into dangerous territory last night, and so he quickly pivoted to the twins. From darkness to light. Those baby girls are teething, smiling and eating gourmet pureed foods. They are so eager to crawl. I wonder if they will run before they can walk. They bring me so much joy. They sustained me through my post-fall healing journey. I’m booking a flight right now.

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A Delicate Balance

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , on April 29, 2025| Leave a Comment »

I’m slowly starting to drive again, to pick up my life from last November. I want to do it all _ Pilates, swimming, dancing, but i’m restraining myself. My ONE mission in life right now is Not To Fall...it’s not my golden years, it’s more like diamond years, building back bones as strong as diamonds. Living with osteoporosis is a Delicate Balance.

The Bride has been visiting her brother’s new family, bringing her big sister energy to Southern California. Since the twins received their first round of immunizations, they all ventured out to South Pasadena’s farmer’s market last week. I miss the huge avocados and baby bok choy, the non-stop music and synergy of craft/farm/artistisan vibes. But it’s almost strawberry season in TN, so there’s that!

One of the first things I had to tackle when we returned home was cleaning the bird bath. And I’m so glad I did; a cardinal has decided he needs to bathe every midday when the sun is out. First he perches on the edge, carefully watching the tiny solar fountain erupting intermittently, then he dives in and shakes himself silly. I love to witness this tiny red dancer and can’t wait to meet his mate.

And speaking of cardinals, on the day of the Pope’s funeral I watched the movie Conclave. If you’ve missed it, it’s streaming now on Prime. Growing up Catholic, it left me with mixed feelings. The pomp was still there, and I do love the pomp, but the cutthroat politics was new to me. Apparently if you want to become Pope, you have to pretend that you don’t. We had just celebrated Passover, traveling home on Easter Sunday when we heard the sad news.

I couldn’t help comparing Passover to Easter: one celebrates freedom from slavery, and one celebrates eternal life? Reality vs Myth.

Do you sometimes feel like you’re walking on a tightrope? I’ve been balancing my energy between my California family and my Tennessee family. The roses and lilacs are in bloom, but I was just strolling past lavender hedges as high as my eyes! The twins are starting to smile, and my Pumpkin is perfecting his magic tricks. We are all looking forward to the Love Bug’s Bat Mitzvah in the Fall!

My first granddaughter’s rite of passage is an ancient one, but it’s fairly new for women to step up to the bimah. In 1922, Rabbi Kaplan insisted his daughter should study the Torah and she was the first to be consecrated in this country. Today there are many women rabbis but in the Catholic Church women are still subservient to priests. But who knows, maybe the next Pope will be more progressive.

Meanwhile…

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Out of Sync

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 22, 2025| 2 Comments »

Just in case you’re not caught up on my exploits, here’s a tiny synopsis:

Since the last election, when I broke my neck, I’ve been out of sync with my life. My hands were useless, and my head had to be constrained 24/7 in an Aspen Collar. When my neck was set free, three months later, my twin granddaughters were born prematurely. Bob and I have been living in California ever since. Now it’s time to return to Nashville, to return to normal, whatever that means.

A friend once told me I seem to have a lot of adventures! Well, I’m determined to lead a very boring life from now on; I will retreat to my snug and write, I will start swimming again, maybe I’ll venture into the kitchen and whip up a batch of muffins with the Love Bug. And my only big adventure will be to finish reading my very first fantasy novel – “Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell,” by Susanna Clarke.

I’m not a Lord of the Rings type. Even Harry Potter eluded my sensibilities. I’m an occasional fan of dystopian science fiction, but more enamored of historical fiction. Still I figured, why not give this twenty year old fantasy a go?

It all started when I came upon an Insta story from Parnassus Books. Ann Patchett was raving about this book as an escape for our times, but she warned it’s rather long and it will take 200 pages of boring description before taking off. I figured I needed the distraction, so instantly I downloaded the novel to my Kindle and I was hooked immediately.

It’s about the return of English magic – practical magic as opposed to theoretical magic! It takes place during the Napoleonic wars, with ancient fairy kingdoms and talking gargoyles. It’s about love and jealousy. And then I found out that Aunt Kiki loves fantasy novels. My beautiful, kind daughter-in-love, my Irish dancer, knows all about elves and magic!

If you’d like to venture into some modern fantasy, the Atlantic reviewed a new book this month titled “The Last Unicorn.”

“And perhaps all of this is why The Last Unicorn is a fantasy for these times. The novel doesn’t take place in a believable alternate world with clear rules and boundaries, but in a messy one more akin to ours. It’s not epic fantasy, but applied fantasy—which is to say, readers aren’t supposed to get lost in its invented world. We are supposed to import its lessons to our own world. In this uncertain age, when truth and falsehood are just rapidly converging talking points on the same blurry continuum, and wishful thinking is hopelessly mixed up with reality, The Last Unicorn urges audiences to do the things that need doing anyway, muddling through as best we can.” From the Atlantic – “One of the Best Fantasy Novels Ever…” https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2018/11/last-unicorn-peter-beagle-50th-anniversary-reality-magic/575641/

When Lord Wellington asked Mr Norrell to conjure up some unicorns to ride into battle against the French, he replied there were none left. They’d become extinct. It’s good to know there’s one left!

Oh how I wish I didn’t have to return to reality. My cuddling babies and dog walking duties are done, my tiny twin granddaughters are well on the road to post-preemiehood and getting stronger every day. They’ve just about doubled their birth weight, and they immediately focus and listen when their Daddy plays the guitar. Do you remember those days of young motherhood?

I do. I remember them like they were yesterday.

Hello Spring. The roses and lilacs have bloomed outside my snug’s window.

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Lockdown

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , on March 25, 2025| 4 Comments »

Last weekend my stepbrother Eric and his wife Bev, from St Louis, were visiting their daughter’s family here in California. We have a history of missed opportunities to see each other whenever we overlap on the West Coast but this time I was determined to make it happen. We made a reservation at a French restaurant near the hospital, we would sit out on the terrace to avoid germs.

Then this happened:

Aunt Kiki and I left Bob and our son in the hospital’s cafeteria – they were headed into the Starbucks cafe near the gift shop while we wanted to get back to the NICU. Only when we got to the locked door leading into the maternity ward, a spot where I would pick up the wall mounted phone and announce myself and the name of the babies I was visiting, we met an armed policewoman.

She said the hospital was on LOCKDOWN and we couldn’t get back into the NICU and we couldn’t go outside! We made her say it again.

All of a sudden a fairy godmother holding her dinner plate looked at us and said, “She’s one of our mothers, follow me!” It was the NICU charge nurse sweeping us through maternity’s locked doors and into the nursery where we learned there’d been an incident in the ER. I asked our fairy/nurse if this was a drill, she said no. Kiki quickly texted the Rocker to tell him he should abandon his coffee run and meet us in the NICU pronto.

Without knowing anything – was there an armed shooter in the building, had a car crashed into the ER, or was the next plague contained behind locked doors – we settled into our little room with the twins. I told Kiki we were in the safest place imaginable, behind multiple layers of security. The Rocker texted back he heard helicopters outside while Bob was using his doctor bona fides to reach us.

We were the only visitors in our “twin room.” At one time we had three sets of twins with three nurses each but on that day we were down to two sets and the remaining two nurses were trying to put us at ease. “There’s plenty of breast milk to keep us hydrated,” one said. The baby girls slept peacefully all swaddled up in their bassinets and I hugged Kiki. The boys arrived.

For over three hours it was business as usual, kind of – Kiki was nursing the twins and I was tentatively texting with Bev. They were at the restaurant holding our table and enjoying some French onion soup. We learned that someone had left the ER unhappy with their treatment, threatening to return and, “Shoot up the place.” The LAPD were looking for him (I’m assuming their gender) and until he was arrested we were held captive, obliged to miss yet another attempt to see Eric and Bev!

Once the threat was over and we were driving back to our AirBnB, I was slowly aware of my suppressed rage. When Bob worked in a hospital, there were no metal detectors. Today we must present our drivers license, stand in front of a camera and have a badge made every day we visit the twins. Every baby has some sort of security band on their foot. And yet

These babies, my brand new grandbabies, have already experienced their first distinctly American terrorist threat… their first active shooter drill. They were not even a month old. Even if this disgruntled patient was at home having his dinner, we were watching the NICU door, listening for gunfire. I was terrified. He was arrested, we got the all clear and picked up dinner – cookies – from the hospital’s vending machine.

But do I want my grandchildren to grow up in a country with 125 guns for every 100 people? Here is a screen shot of that night.

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Disingenuous

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on January 4, 2025| 4 Comments »

I’d like to propose a word for last year: “Disingenuous.” It’s a word that’s stuck in my head, like a piece of music can get stuck in your ear.

Maybe it’s just aging – the way one word slips out of your mind every time you try to recall it, while another word decides to stay awhile. Does this happen to you? I can never remember the name of my favorite drug for instance, it’s an anti-inflammatory like Advil or Aleve but it doesn’t start with an “A.” I can’t won’t take opioids for pain, but this little pill does the trick. And as you know, 2024 has brought me a lot of pain. Its brand name is “Celebrex!”

“Celecoxib is a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug (NSAID) used to treat mild to moderate pain and help relieve symptoms of arthritis (eg, osteoarthritis, rheumatoid arthritis, or juvenile rheumatoid arthritis), such as inflammation, swelling, stiffness, and joint pain.”  https://www.mayoclinic.org/drugs-supplements/celecoxib-oral-route/description/drg-20068925

I call this my wonder drug, and yet its name still eludes me. Celebrex lasts for twenty-four hours and doesn’t upset the stomach as much as other NSAIDs, but you do need an Rx. OTOH, I just watched an ad on TV of a young guy falling down, injuring his back, and calling AMAZON to Facetime a doctor and have his prescription delivered right to his door – all while lying flat on his back on the kitchen floor. Doctor and pharmacy visit avoided.

I wondered if the MD or NP on the phone was an AI for a second.

Which leads me right to the next word – the one that is stuck in my head – Disingenuous. To be disingenuous is to be untrustworthy, dishonest, deceitful. You can tell I HATE AI. It’s enough to make me a Luddite. Last year’s election, and the time before that when another exceptional woman wasn’t elected President, has left me bereft. My physical ailments notwithstanding, I feel as if our country has lost its way. Maybe it started with “alternative truth.” Bob has a problem with putting a possessive pronoun in front of truth to begin with… so this is MY truth? Listen to ME! For me, a fact… is a fact… is a fact.

And aging is a part of this circle of life. I’m not injecting toxic chemicals in my body to “fight” aging, because aging always wins. As I enter the last quarter century of my time here on earth, I am determined to slow down and simplify my life. In a Buddhist sense, I want 2025 to be my “aimless” year – no more running after happiness, simply cherish the present moment. I – you – we are enough. In that mood, I don’t need another dog. After Ms Bean died, I started questioning that decision, thinking maybe a lap dog would be fun. But no, it would also create chaos.

And no more disingenuous people please. No more two-faced politicians, like that Republican Senator from Louisiana with an unlikely name, John Kennedy, who stood disdainfully near the podium at a news conference after the New Year’s NOLA terrorist attack. He ridiculed an NBC reporter, and suggested there was some conspiracy the federal government was hiding, and that pure “evil” exists in the world. Old fire and brimstone, just another old white guy giving us all a scolding in an affected voice like Foghorn Leghorn.

The word for the New Year in our family is Twins! Congratulations to Aunt Kiki and the Rocker, their double feature is due in the spring. I’ve got a few weeks left of hand therapy and another baby blanket to knit, but I cannot wait to meet them.

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