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Showing posts from February, 2009

The Foggy, Foggy Dew

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A Beginner's Guide to RA: Workin’ for a Living

Building reference areas over at HealthCentral: "Work is important, especially when you have a chronic disease. Your rheumatoid arthritis may change how you live your life, adding an impressive list of medications to your daily "diet," making everything from getting dressed to making coffee more complicated and require compromises in your social activities, your sleep schedule and your sex life , but going to work is a welcome dose of normal. It pays the bills, sure, but also reminds you that underneath it all, you're still the same person. So, we keep going out there, until we absolutely can't." The rest of the psot is here .

Johs

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Forty years ago, when AB and I became best friends we also adopted each other's families on her side, that meant her dad Johs, mom Ebba and younger sister KL (who I may have mentioned we harassed mercilessly - forgot the link, sorry). They became a sort of second family to me, an extended safety net of people who felt like home. M y family and they both lived in an area with tiny, one-story rowhouses and I was ever fascinated by their version on another street, because it had two stories on the back, being built on a hill. They had a bathtub where we had a shower, although the tub was the type you sit in, a tiny enclosed chair of sorts squeezed into the end of an equally tiny bathroom. Their house was arraigned slightly differently than ours and Ebba and Johs had redecorated, putting up a wall where previously none was to allow for AB and KL to have their own rooms, which left their parents with a rather small room to themselves and very little privacy and even as a child, I was a

Random February

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Starting off with a few items filed under the category of "things that make you go huh" . I was watching Bones the other day - and wasn't this weeks episode awesome? - and at the end of every commercial break, we get The Warning: "this episode may content graphic forensic content, viewer discretion advised." Right. The shows is called Bones… main character is a forensic anthropologist… ya think on the graphic forensic content? ? A nd while we're on things that happen on my television screen. I've also recently watched The Great Escape and it reminded me of something that confused me for years. The RAF side cap which is a fantastic uniform accessory, making the whole thing seem very heroic and jaunty and very, very British, except …. so it's perched askew right above the ear on the side of the head (example here ). How on earth did it stay on??? (as an aside, you can buy them here and a selling point is the “itchy scratchy fabric!”) I checked out

Mass Hysteria

A couple of months ago, there was a bit of a thing when someone said that the concern about nuts and nut-free zones was showing all signs of flirting with mass hysteria. Dr. Nicholas Christakis, who himself allergic to nuts, was quoted as saying that the efforts of schools to declare themselves completely nut-free, including banning nuts and peanut butter from the school, as well as homemade goods and foods without detailed ingredient labels were a "gross overreaction to the magnitude of the threat". Comparatively, the 150 people who die of food allergies and 2000 hospitalized patients due to food allergies every year in the US are a tiny amount compared to say, brain injuries acquired while playing sports, car accidents, etc. And it's possible that we're not all as allergic as we think - just recently, I read an article (I forget where exactly) about how children who’d been diagnosed through allergy tests with e.g., six food allergies requiring a diet free of such

No Longer Lost

I've been a Lost fan since the first episode, compelled and captured by the action, the ensemble cast, the interlacing stories only partially explained in flashbacks, the struggle between the rational and faith represented in Jack Shepard and John Locke (and since Jack has always irritated the crap out of me, Locke won by default. He is also sexier than Jack, who to me at least, has the sex appeal of a wrung-out dishrag) and although I've more than occasionally wished for it is a bit more lighting of the night scenes because I can't see what's going on, even that just added to the charm. I've loved that they're not afraid to kill people (although I wasn't a fan of Nikki and Paolo’s demise - it seemed unnecessarily mean and cruel), I’ve loved the mysterious plane, Jacob's cabin, Ben, Juliet and the Others, Sawyer wandering around without a shirt, all bad boy in need of a good woman to love him and the Smoke Monster. Let's not forget the Smoke Monste

Family Day

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This is the second Family Day long weekend (it was invented last year) and we did just that. Spent time with family. Although based on the photos, you'd think there were no adults there. For Morgan, one of the highlights of lunch at mormor's (Danish for grandma) is french stick with butter. Liam liked sitting in a big chair Scott finally let me take his picture Hanging out at the balcony door A long weekend. In the middle of February. Ahhhh....

S M R T

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When my fibromyalgia first appeared in a noticeable way about five years ago, I thought I was losing my mind. Weird words started showing up in my documents, words completely unrelated to what I was writing and I had no idea how they got there. I had typed tiger and what showed up was filing cabinet . It was terrifying. Aside from the pain, which was unlike pain I'd ever experienced before, the mental aspects of fibromyalgia changed who I was. I used to be pretty smart - is it okay to say that or does it make me sound like a conceited arse? - and now my concentration isn't that great. I used to have a memory like a steel trap and now it's like a steel sieve . My mind used to be nimble and now it feels more like molasses in January. I once asked my doctor how we'd know if I ever got Alzheimer's and was only half-joking. She claimed she’d notice. I choose to believe her. Someone told me that fibromyalgia makes your pain receptors overreact for everything and that&

Ch-ch-changes

This week, I'm having a bit of a rant about compromises over at HealthCentral: "Splints for your wrists A cane to lean on Orthopedic shoes that have room for swollen ankles and aching toes Loose clothes that’s easier to put on When you first get diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, no one tells you this disease may require equipment that’ll make you stand out in a crowd and not the kind of standing out that happens when you're wearing a pair of really sexy shoes. They don’t tell you this equipment looks like it belongs in a hospital and there is no handy list of shops with fashionable clothes for people who have trouble with buttons." The rest of the posts is here .

Cone in Snow

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More Follicular Blogfodder

The hair continues to provide moments too good not to share. First there was the Badness , then the improvement and now... I could pad this, could write a lot of words leading up to what this post is really about, but too many words would take away from the sublime ridiculousness of the moment. And besides, my shoulder still has loud and decided opinions about what I do and what I shouldn't do (spending time at the computer remains high on the latter list), so here goes. I went to the market on Friday, as I do most Fridays, to get my weekend grocery shopping done away from the hordes that invade the place on Saturdays. Among other things, I stopped by the butcher for my weekly dose of kielbasa. As I'm paying, the following exchange takes place (butcher staff identified by initial only to protect her anonymity) R : I like your hair. Me (happily, because I really like it, too): thanks! R: you look pretty now! Me: ………?

For Alison

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Yesterday, AlisonH came home after a harrowing experience leading to a hospital stay. A little lighter (I wonder how much a colon weighs?), but much healthier. And alive. Let's not forget alive. Welcome home, my friend. It's a good day.

Attempting Maturity

After a couple months of doing really, really well, to the point where taking painkillers made me stoned because they didn't have any pain to deal with (and hence, I had a lovely, yet very freaky period of time in which I took hardly any – freaky because they’re as much part of my daily 'diet' as breakfast), I aggravated the injury/permanent state of affairs in my right shoulder a few weeks ago and have been reducing my activity level somewhat to allow it to heal. Which it hasn't, instead getting more and more pissy with me. So I tried to accommodate it. A week ago, I put a ban on typing (which in actuality meant a 70% decrease in typing), increased the painkillers drastically and kept going at a reduced pace. Which means I didn’t work in the evening. Much, anyway. I had a vague sense that I probably ought to take a week off to heal, but I had things to do. ( Stop rolling your eyes and doing that sighing thing. I can hear you, you know!) N ot surprisingly, this made

4th Annual Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading

Today is the Feast of St. Brigid (as well as Imbloc and Groundhog Day) and that means it's time for the annual poetry celebration . The first year, I posted Pablo Neruda , the second I sort of forgot - although I'll argue that this picture is a visual poem, a paean to sunshine in the depths of winter - and last year, it was Thomas Traherne . This year, I've decided to post one of my own. Worthwhile Endeavors first appeared in Borderlines . W orthwhile Endeavors I don't work well, not for pay anyway I cannot work (for pay) I lost my ability to work (for pay) years ago a disability can do that mess with your ability to do things What use am I if I cannot work (for pay)? in this world, what use are any of us if there’s no employment to go to ? You don't work (for pay)? What happened to your spine, your get-up-and-go, your work ethic, your independence, your stamina What is your excuse, your justificatio