Holidays, friends, and fun.

Ah, life! You ask what's been happening in my life and it's the same. Work, friends, grandchildren. Here's some pics to show you....

This is my amazing grandson Quinn and his Purple Monster. He knows that real monsters NEVER go to Gramma's house. He made this one himself!
This is Quinn's twin sister Talia, the Princess, standing before their art gallery at my house. Yes, she's a bit toothless.

This is Simone, the tabby kitty, lying on my 1000 piece puzzle, even though I've told her many, many times not to do it! Don't you think there are a zillion more comfortable places to hang?

Some of my Wowettes at a recent potluck at my house. Fabulous group always.

We visited a Fall Fair at a local farm about 30 miles north of my house on Halloween. Thousands of pumpkins, lots of animals, fresh vegetables, a ride in a train through a hillside of sunflowers, two happy children, and a very happy gramma.

They love to play on the tractor at the farm!

Talia had her face painted to match her Snow Princess Halloween costume.

Thanksgiving at gramma's. That's a pumpkin pie my daughter made from the Halloween pumpkin. See the smiley face in the pie?

The morning after an overnight at Gramma's. PJs, the tabby cat, and toys on Gramma's kitchen island bar.

Yes, that's me and Santa. I left an office full of patients to see my patient being Santa! He's been playing Santa for decades, starting when he was the only Jewish guy in his military unit. The hospital next to my office hosts hundreds of needy children for lunch, entertainment, a picture with Santa, and a big bag of toys for each! This was held on the same day that my daughter visited the twin's class to teach the 1st graders about Hanukah. There are miracles everywhere.

The gifts of the season.

I'm enjoying the holiday season. End of year, Christmas, Hanukah, my birthday, all in a few weeks time. It's a lovely time of year to celebrate miracles. I love that the holidays, no matter what religion, are about miracles, amazing happenings we can't explain logically. The virgin birth, the miracle of the lights, even our birthdays are celebrations of life, that mysterious thing that we so take for granted but is really beyond our comprehension. Our heart pumps, our kidneys filter, our blood delivers oxygen - sometimes the mere thought of how our body works makes me think there must be a god or something much greater than ourselves that can perform miracles and create what we can't understand. It's a season to stop and realize the majesty of our mere being, that we are in a certain place at this particular time to learn or grow or be a blessing to others. Makes me misty, thinking about the miracles in my own life, that I have the most beautiful daughter, that she has created a wonderful family, that she loves me. It's beyond my ability to comprehend, but I appreciate that I exist and that I'm here, right here and right now.

Sometimes I wonder if I should be doing more fun things or seeing more people or doing more charity work or fostering a child or giving my time to the needy or a multitude of things. I'm never going to cure cancer or travel to the moon or even put a needy child through college. Sometimes I'm so caught up in survival, paying my bills, wondering how I'll be able to retire, that I don't even think about those lofty goals. But really, maybe it's enough to just be me, to just give a smile to the checker at the store, to try to make the job easier for my staff at work, to listen to my friends, to encourage my daughter, to hug my grandchildren, to do the little daily things that might make life just a tiny bit happier for the people I see every day.

We don't have big holidays in my family, just a few of us getting together opening a gift or two and sharing a meal. But I think keeping it simple helps us remember the real gifts in life, that we are healthy, that we have a roof over our heads, and that we love each other deeply. I certainly will never understand the meaning of life or how it's possible to create a kidney or a flower, but I'll always understand that happiness in this life isn't in the presents we open, but appreciating what can't be bought.

Matters of the heart.

I sailed through my cardiac catherization yesterday, thanks to a fine doctor, my motherly daughter, and my best friend. And some very kind nurses and techs. Nothing to it. No pain, no discomfort, just some yummy drugs and it's over! Again in my life, something I feared turned out to be no big deal at all.

After five hours of lying still on my back to allow the wound to heal, my new cardiologist came in to send me home and my friend asked about proper heart diet. The doc isn't one to give short answers, so we were treated to a lesson on what to eat to keep our hearts healthy. Only two egg yokes per week, no cheese, only occasional red meat,and no chicken skin. Only healthy fats like canola. Breakfast should be the biggest meal of the day, and dinner should be a very small meal, as food takes eight hours to fully digest. One 81 mg. aspirin daily. 1000 mg. of fish oil twice a day. And lots of exercise. I sure didn't know that eating salt causes high blood pressure which harms the arteries! What he told us were all things I have known to do or not to do but didn't, and now I'm quite motivated to do them. By the way, my arteries are only slightly clogged, nothing to prevent or impinge on blood flow, and proper care will keep them that way. Yeah! (You can check out what Dr. Oz has to say about heart health)

So what did I learn? That I have a second chance to get healthy. That sometimes we have to let go and let others take care of us. That maybe the tightness in my chest is due to bad diet choices, like dairy and chemicals. That I'm pretty lucky to have lots of friends who checked in to see if I was OK. That my best friend is truly a saint. That my daughter is a wonderful nurturer. And that my heart is pretty healthy. Not a bad day after all.

Scanners, hearts, and a nice guy.

Ventricular tachycardia. Yep, VT. I had a few beats of that on my recent stress-echo test, and now I'm a patient. I don't like being a patient. I've worked for doctors for forty years, always taking care of patients, and I don't like being one. I've been placed on a low dose beta blocker, which is supposed to prevent those unhealthy heartbeats, so that's good.

Just to make sure my cardiac arteries are open and pumping nicely, today I underwent a CTA. It's a computer tomography heart scan, using a special CT scanner to visualize the heart and the arteries. It's less invasive than the conventional angiogram, which uses a catheter into a vein or artery using a small incision. Just a CAT scan and some dye, but I'm not thrilled.

Ya gotta know I'm not happy to be a patient. I get to the imaging facility thirty minutes early, as requested, having had no food or water for four hours, fill out three minutes worth of papers and then sit. I'm thinking this is not so nice, bringing me here so early to just wait for twenty-five minutes. And the front desk people were civil, but not exactly my best friends. So finally, someone calls my name and takes me back to prepare for the test and right away I tell him that I think being a patient sucks. He just looks at me politely and says in his slow drawl, "we'll just try to change your mind today." So he's tall, dark, and good-looking and treats me with obvious kindness and I realize it's gonna be tough to be a cranky patient with this guy. He takes me into a little room, proceeds to slowly and quietly tell me all about the procedure, what to expect, what I'll have to do, what meds will be used, and how it will all feel. He says that there isn't a tech better than him, and by now I'm believing it. So this is nice, I think, being cared for so respectfully by someone so skilled and I just sit back to let it happen.

The actual procedure was easy. I'm in the CT scanner with my arms overhead, IV in place, leads on my chest, and a warm blanket across my body. He turns on the scanner and I can see some of its mechanism going around and around my the table and I'm thinking how amazing it is that a machine can take pictures of my beating heart, reconfigure them, and create a picture of my heart and arteries, all in a few minutes. I take a breath, I hold my breath, I breathe again, he puts contrast into my IV, I feel the heat all through my body just as he said I would, and then it's all over. I'm thinking to myself it's just magic, it's all just magic, when he says, "Technology properly implemented is indistinguishable from magic." Aaaaahhhh.

And then he talks about what it takes to be good at something, that it takes skill and attention to detail both. He says that some people have one or the other, but not many have both. He says it's important to listen to the patient, to really hear the patient, and then proceed with consideration of who you are treating. A real gentleman, this man.

So I write today to thank Michael for his kindness to me when I was frightened and alone. That I appreciate your tenderness and concern for my well being. That I wish more people were just like you. And yes, you made being a patient not so bad, after all.

Hearts, toes, and potluck.

Whew, what a week! It started with a visit to my doctor for chest pains, an abnormal EKG, and then an emergency room visit where all tests were normal. Lucky me, working for trauma surgeons got me into an ER room without waiting, so that was good, but then they wouldn't let me out. It didn't help that when my boss-docs stopped by in their scrubs after surgery and I asked them to get me out, one told the nurse, "Don't listen to anything she says, don't let her go home, she's (and a finger motion circling his own head) kinda crazy - and we have power of attorney so don't let her out." Ha, ha. Finally, a hospitalist doc stopped by to say I could go home if I'd show up the next morning for a stress echo test. Did that, turned out slightly abnormal, and I kinda panicked. My mother died of heart disease so I'm quite aware of what happens. And I'm not a good patient, I admit. In my job, I've always taken care of patients but this being a patient sucks. I got in to see the cardiologist two days later (again, it's who you know in life, isn't it?) who wasn't too worried but put me on some meds to prevent the irregular heartbeat so I'm not so distressed anymore. How do my sick patients do it! Such angst!

And a Wow meeting was this week, after a six month hiatus, and I was really looking forward to the potluck and the noisy spirited women in my house. The night before the meeting, I was cleaning the front room, moving furniture, and dropped the ottoman on my toe. Yow! It was beyond pain! It bled everywhere! And I sat down, put a package of frozen peas on my foot, and the horror subsided. Doesn't hurt anymore, but I'm just wondering how this toenail, in six pieces, will grow out. Oh well.

So Thursday night, the ladies showed up, food and flowers and gifts in hand, and it was delightful. The dinner was delicious and the ladies upbeat and cheery. After dinner, we gathered in the room with the killer ottoman to answer the question, "What did I do this summer?" Interesting answers, very interesting. Several ladies suffered serious health problems, but are recovering well. One finally moved her business and is enjoying increased customers in her new location. Several went to Las Vegas, one for vacation and one to gather with family from other states. One joyfully bragged about her new granddaughter and the engagement of her son. Two have been enjoying singing in the musical I wrote about recently and are both helping fix up a condo one bought. One is a few months from retirement and just bought a rental house in Arizona to increase her income. One, ending a three-year cycle of death and loss, is now enjoying rebuilding the house her mom left her that burned down, but dealing with the feelings for the contractor who caused the fire. Only two of us took big trips, but the others mostly stayed home, having a quiet summer with friends and families.

What was most surprising to me was that several of the ladies talked about being in relationships with men who are less than satisfactory, less than attractive to them, and men they like but aren't passionate about. Before the meeting, when thinking about what to say about my own summer, I realized how much I enjoy living alone, how I'd enjoy a fine man in my life, but still appreciate being able to do whatever I want whenever I want. And not missing the drama that can come with a romantic relationship, wondering what he means, what he wants, what I want, etc, etc. These ladies are holding onto men that are not right for them, men who don't treat them well, men who are cheap and disrespectful, men who cause them grief. After so many years single, it's hard for me to comprehend these fine women choosing to settle, choosing men who don't brighten their lives or treat them like queens. But I do understand not wanting to be alone because I felt that in my early single years, that need to be wanted and loved, that need to feel connected and desired.

I guess it shows that I'm content with myself. That I've learned to enjoy my company and learned to enjoy solitude. And that's good. But I want my friends to be happy, to live joyful lives, to surround themselves with friends and mates who adore them and appreciate them. Still, I can't make their decisions, but their choices show me how far I've grown. And I appreciate that.

Why, why, why?

I get questions. This one is from one of my Wowettes, an attractive and fun woman in my group, who writes:

I'm frustrated with myself. Maybe you have an answer. Why do men call your cell number and not leave and message; and then immediately call your home number and not leave a message? Not even a "Hi". Why waste their time and mine? If they wanted to call - don't you think they would say something? Please give me your opinion. Thanks for your help. Or, if you can, give me a "reply" to this guy. Obviously he is under my skin and it is annoying why he just can't say something!

I admit I used to wonder about the "why." Why do men not call? Why do they talk about sex before meeting? Why don't they have manners? Why? I used to have a friend who would call me about something a guy said or something he did and ask me "What do you think he means by that?" She would have already asked a bunch of her other girlfriends and would tell me their opinions and ask what I thought. I figure we could make 1000 guesses and still not know what the guy meant anyway. Even if she asked the guy himself, he might not even be aware of his actions or the meaning of them - or be unwilling to tell the truth, for fear of seeming insecure or stupid or whatever guys think. There's just no way to know.

So, dear Wowette, the answer is....drumroll....It doesn't matter. It might not mean anything. He might just be shy or macho or not like your voice or really like your voice or not be comfortable leaving a message or might be afraid to say the wrong thing or be pissed off you weren't there or be married and changed his mind or one trillion zillion other options. But, it just doesn't matter. It means nothing. It tells you nothing about him. Nothing. Guesses are just guesses. At least he is trying to reach you, isn't he?

After many angst-filled conversations with the girl friends and many hours spent obsessing about what he means, I just let go. He called and he didn't leave a message. So what? If he is really interested, he'll call again and again until he reaches you. Or he won't. It means nothing. What is important is what you find out about him during your conversations. What matters is WHO he is really, in person, and in actions. I give you the advice my to-be-son-in-law gave me years before he married my daughter, when we were in college together (him in his 20s and me in my 40s)after taking a final exam and starting to think I should have studied harder, I should have changed an answer, etc, etc......he said, "Let it go." I can't tell you how many times since then this has helped me relax, have more peace, be calm and peaceful. That's right, just let it go. It means nothing. Really. Let it go.

Being, doing, going.

My daughter is in the process of being laid off her job of fourteen years. She's in her late 30s, has a successful husband, and their family can survive well without her income. She's in transition, making a big change, and thinking about what to do next with her time. She's busy, has a nice circle of friends, and the children are doing well in school, so there's no issues creating drama that would prevent her moving on to whatever she wants to do. But what should she do?

Life really is a series of changes and transitions. Just growing older each year and seeing the world from a the changing perspective of our increasing age is change. Some of us marry and some of us divorce, we change jobs, we move, and we make new friends or lose old ones. Our jobs change, our careers shift, and we are constantly affected by what we see and hear about what's happening in the world. We get sick and we get well. We watch our friends' lives change, we have children or grandchildren, prices go up and our income buys less, and life is never quite the same from one day to the next. Even if our routine stays the same, we as people, we as individuals, are constantly changing.

And for me? We took on a new doc in the office three years ago, everything shifted, and I'm still reeling from what those changes caused. I stopped having singles parties and I stopped dating. I made a few new friends and a few others moved on. I'm still a mother and a grandmother, but those I love are constantly changing and growing, so that affects me, too.

The issue is still always "what should I be doing?" Should I date again? Should I go back to school? Should I do volunteer work? Should I take different exercise classes? I've spent the past year or so kinda sliding along, learning to cope with my job, enjoying my time at home, having occasional dinner and movies nights with my women friends, spending time with my grandchildren, taking a few trips, and yet I still ask myself if I should be doing something else, something more.

I have encouraged my daughter to think less, to just enjoy the extra time and space in her life now that she is not working. I want her to just "be." To hold still, breathe deeply, and really go-with-the-flow. Let the world move her to and fro a little. Let life surprise her with what comes to her without her having to figure it out. Allow each day to unfold easily. Be available to whatever comes next.

Even as I suggest she just let go, let things happen, I sometimes think I "should" be doing more, seeing more people, going to more events, being more busy. But, after a lifetime of being a single parent, going to college and working full time as an adult, keeping my own house, being a grandparent, tending to an ailing parent, being very-very-very busy for many, many years, I am having a hard time just sitting still and allowing myself to do nothing. To watch TV. To take walks. To sit outside and feel the sun on my skin. To read novels. To just be and do whatever or do nothing and feel like that's enough. What is it that makes us feel like there's some scale somewhere that we must measure ourselves against to prove that we're productive enough, that we're participating enough in life? Who judges this?

So, for now, I'm going to take my advice for my daughter and give it to myself. That, outside of meeting our personal needs, there's no standard to follow, no yardstick to tell us we're doing enough or being social enough or having enough nights out. It's OK to do nothing. It's OK to coast. It's OK to just....be.