Three Thoughts for Thursday

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  1. Can someone explain why Mom can spend an afternoon mercilessly teasing me about dropping my phone down the throne, but she can’t remember what she ate for lunch?
  2. During the lunch she can’t remember, she once again offered tastes of her ice cream. “Mmmm,” she said more than once, “it’s good.” When I declined, she feigned surprise. “Oh, that’s right. You’re allergic to dairy. I forgot!”
  3. In other news, I had a haircut yesterday and my annual mammogram today. Mom used to refer to the convergence of those events as being “tressed and pressed.” The woman did and does have a way with words and a bent for teasing. Gotta love her!

Ten Worst Things about an Annual Physical

Like many things that are good for us, an annual physical is not a delightful experience. Here are my top 10 worst things about the yearly appointment.My annual physical torture exam was yesterday, and it once more confirmed my opinion about the 10 worst things about this yearly appointment.

10. When the mammographer says, “This will hurt a little,” she is lying. It hurts a lot.

9.  Breathing is impossible while in the vise grip of the mammography machine, and the command “Don’t breathe” is like salt in the wound.

8.  Being weighed in the hallway without being given a paper bag to put on one’s head.

7.  Those paper gowns that don’t cover what needs covering and aren’t absorbent enough to soak up flop sweat.

6.  Sitting on the exam table in a little paper gown soaked in flop sweat, paging through the magazine you smuggled in from the waiting room, and being one paragraph from the end of a really good article when the doctor walks in.

5.  Every evidence of the niggling condition that’s been bothering you for a month and you didn’t make an appointment for because your physical was coming up, disappears when the doctor arrives.

4.  Your bad breath, compliments of fasting in preparation for blood work, blasts you and the doc when he tells you to say ahhh.

3.  Blood draws.

2.  Flu shot.

1. Because you are almost 60, neither the person who draws your blood or the shot nurse offers you a princess Bandaid to cover your owies.

What do you like least about your annual physical? Leave a comment.

Three Fantastic Friday Thoughts

These three thoughts for a June Thursday in 2012 seem appropriate, especially #3, as Mom’s annual mammogram was yesterday. No tress. Just the press.

For the past couple of weeks, my life has revolved around caring for friends and family – Hiram’s surgery June 12, a Camp Dorothy overnight last weekend, and taking some kids swimming so their pregnant mama could get some rest. Such circumstances rarely shine a light on my finest hour, but the situations did result in three care giving thoughts for Thursday:

These 3 caregiving thoughts from 2012 seem appropriate since Mom's annual press (no tress) was yesterday.

1.   I’m pretty sure the doctor prescribed a 5 pound lifting limit for a certain male patient who had back surgery to keep him from lifting more than 10 pounds.

These 3 caregiving thoughts from 2012 seem appropriate since Mom's annual press (no tress) was yesterday.

2.    Taking imaginative children to the swimming pool isn’t about going swimming. It’s about prowling in the water like a tiger cooling off on a hot jungle day, hopping in the water like a frog in a pond, and swimming underwater like a tadpole. But after 2 1/2 hours of prowling, hopping, and swimming, the tiger, frog, tadpole, children, and adult weren’t pretend tuckered out. They were honest-to-goodness, for real tuckered out.

These 3 caregiving thoughts from 2012 seem appropriate since Mom's annual press (no tress) was yesterday.

3.   I usually take Mom for her annual mammogram, but since it was the same day as Hiram’s surgery, my brother took her instead. She had a haircut the same morning, so during our Camp Dorothy overnight last weekend, I asked her, “Did you survive your big squish and snip morning okay?”

She shook her head and smiled. “It wasn’t squish and snip. It was press and tress.”

Yup, Mom’s still got her sense of humor!

Have you had any memorable care giving moments lately? If so, leave a comment.

Three Care Giving Thoughts for Thursday

For the past couple of weeks, my life has revolved around caring for friends and family – Hiram’s surgery June 12, a Camp Dorothy overnight last weekend, and taking some kids swimming so their pregnant mama could get some rest. Such circumstances rarely shine a light on my finest hour, but the situations did result in three care giving thoughts for Thursday:

1.   I’m pretty sure the doctor prescribed a 5 pound lifting limit for a certain male patient who had back surgery to keep him from lifting more than 10 pounds.

2.    Taking imaginative children to the swimming pool isn’t about going swimming. It’s about prowling in the water like a tiger cooling off on a hot jungle day, hopping in the water like a frog in a pond, and swimming underwater like a tadpole. But after 2 1/2 hours of prowling, hopping, and swimming, the tiger, frog, tadpole, children, and adult weren’t pretend tuckered out. They were honest-to-goodness, for real tuckered out.

3.   I usually take Mom for her annual mammogram, but since it was the same day as Hiram’s surgery, my brother took her instead. She had a haircut the same morning, so during our Camp Dorothy overnight last weekend, I asked her, “Did you survive your big squish and snip morning okay?”

She shook her head and smiled. “It wasn’t squish and snip. It was press and tress.”

Yup, Mom’s still got her sense of humor!

Have you had any memorable care giving moments lately? If so, leave a comment.

Too Hot to Handle

Some weeks are just too hot to handle, and this week is getting mighty steamy. You might think I’m talking about the record breaking, never-before-experienced-this-early-in-June heat wave that’s got the whole state sweating up a storm. At least, we hope there’s a storm coming soon to cool things down. But it’s more than the weather making this week too hot to handle, though the heat was the primary instigator of events.

Think domino effect.

Think taking your 82-year-old mother to a mammogram appointment in the heat.
Think she’s already hot and sweaty before the boob smashing begins.
Think she’s really hot and sweaty after the smashing ends.
Think her daughter doesn’t realize quite how hot and sweaty her mother was and took her to Walgreens to buy a Father’s Day card for her son.

Think her daughter figured out how hot and sweaty her mother was when her mother got sick to her stomach and threw up in a plastic shopping bag.

Yeah, that kind of domino effect.

Poor mom. On Memorial Day a few short weeks ago, she was almost dancing in the cemetery, making jokes about modeling for her internment beside Dad. Yesterday, she was over-heated, smashed, and tossing her cookies at the drug store. This morning, she’s feeling better and eating again, but the whole experience has me thinking.

Why are we subjecting this 82-year-old woman with Alzheimer’s to yearly mammograms? There’s no history of breast cancer in her family. And if she ever was diagnosed with breast cancer, would she want treatment? After all, the best day she had all month was when we visited the cemetery. It’s where most of the people she loves hang out. However, if I continue in this vein, the topic could render this post could get a little too hot to handle. So I’d better stop now.

That darn domino effect.