Caveat Emptor

On Saturday, while I was on the stationery bike at the gym,  I noticed on one of the TV screens an advertisement for a new weight loss product called Sensa.  It is a powdery substance that is sprinkled on your food and it allegedly triggers your brain to know when you are full and stops you from eating too much.  What I thought was a single commercial actually was an infomercial.  There were lots of before and after comparisons with frowning droopy fat bodies and toned happy thinner bodies thanks to Sensa!  I'm not planning on buying any.  The infomercial genre does not work on me.  If somebody needs to keep your attention for thirty or sixty minutes at a time to convince you to buy their product then it probably isn't worth buying.  The claims of a new scientific breakthrough will probably impress a lot of people to waste their money.  If something like this actually works word will get around.

I googled Sensa and found that the main ingredient is maltodextrin, which is a type of sugar made from cornstarch.  It also contains silica and tricalcium phosphate, soy and some milk products.  Nothing earth shattering here.  $139!!  For sugar, sand, calcium, soy and milk.

Weight loss parasite sold in early 20th century.  

The market for weight loss products is increasing exponentially with the obesity rate.  There is a lot of money to be made for the unethical, unscrupulous entrepreneur.  Of course the idea of marketing a miracle weight loss is hardly new.  In the early 20th century pills were available which supposedly contained eggs of tapeworms.  The worms grow to about 15 feet in length and eat themselves silly on anything that passes their way.  The idea of unlimited eating while losing weight is understandably appealing.  However, a fifteen foot worm with an insatiable appetite must put on some poundage of its own. Opera soprano Maria Callas claimed to have used a tapeworm in this way although it was rumored to be an accidental ingestion.  The fad never became widespread because, like so many others, it didn't really solve the problem and had many negative side effects like vomiting, diarrhea, organ damage and seizures.  Getting rid of the worm might be problematic too.

Are you supposed to eat the soap?

Another present-day "miracle product" is green coffee extract.  The claim here is malabsorption, which enables more eating with less consequences.  In an article from the LA times I read that the product is inexpensive but extremely bitter tasting.  The problem with limiting absorption of calories is that nutrients are not absorbed well either.  This issue is addressed by gastric bypass patients with vitamin and protein supplements. Green coffee extract has had limited testing in India.  The company is based in Texas but they conducted clinical trials in India?  Aren't people starving over there?  Did they have trouble finding enough obese individuals in this country?  Hmmm.

Olestra, a fat substitute, sounded promising before it came on the market.  It is a fat that cannot be absorbed by humans.  Labled as Olean, it was marketed in snacks by Proctor and Gamble.  In fine print was the warning that anal oil leakage was a possible side effect along with other "elimination changes".  Imagine serving these snacks at a party and giving your guests this little problem to take home.

Xenical, a prescription medication and Alli, available over the counter, both contain Orlistat which blocks absorbtion of fat.  Like Olestra, anal leakage and diarrhea are possible (probable) side effects.  In order for this to work properly one must eat a low fat diet. I actually tried this product and quickly gave it up.  The manufacturer should have suggested avoiding most fats for a week before beginning the medication.  The onset of blocking occurs right away and what I'd eaten for the previous few days was targeted which  made me socially unacceptable for a few days.

Hoodia, a product from a plant in the Kalahari Desert in Africa, reportedly decreases appetite.  A study with a mere SEVEN participants (some of whom took a placebo) in Pennsylvania had a result of losing an average of 3.3% of their body weight in 28 days.  There was a lot of advertising for Hoodia containing products for a while.  I don't remember any mention that the " incredible scientific proof" was based on the outcome of such a small study.

All this is very discouraging to those of us who've struggled with weight loss.  Self proclaimed "MIRACLES" are tempting.   Consider the old adage "If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is."  The desperate are likely customers for promises of cures for not only obesity but also baldness, impotence, cancer and infertility.  Some, but not all, are harmless.  Others delay seeking of effective treatment because the advertised cure seems much more attractive. My advice is to research before buying any of this stuff.  There is plenty of documentation on line to check out a product before spending money on something questionable.

Love to all,
Marlena of Mohegan

Are We There Yet?

It started as a simple question. After supper the other night my daughter asked if I'd like to go for a walk. I'd had a busy day at work and she'd been home all day with her 2-year-old son. We both needed a little diversion.

Our town has recently formed a network of trails for hiking and cycling. One is not far from our home and I've been wanting to check it out. When I mentioned this as my choice for our walk she reluctantly agreed. "Where does the trail go?" she asked. I really didn't know where it ended up but I knew it led to a newly built pedestrian bridge that spanned the nearby six-lane parkway. "How long is it?" I figured it couldn't be more than a mile or two.

Taconic Parkway pedestrian overpass or "bridge to nowhere"

We set off at an easy pace. The early spring evening was perfect weather-wise. Warm enough but not too hot or humid. The sky was clear and sunny. Now a trail that parallels a six-lane highway is not exactly a trip into the wilderness but we did have the whole thing to ourselves. I commented that it was nice not to have show-off skinny people leaving us in their dust. We could see the traffic on the parkway below us and on our other side we saw some backyards and some fences. Eventually the trail dipped down to wooded areas with a stream. We saw a family of deer and heard the evening peeping of frogs in the wetlands.

After about 30 minutes of wooded bliss my daughter asked "how far to the bridge?". I had no idea. It certainly didn't seem very far when I was driving on the highway. We kept going expecting the bridge to be around the next bend. It wasn't.

We came upon some wooden walkways over wetland areas. There were some pretty flowering trees in bloom. The trail moved further away from the highway once we were past the developed areas. At times, we couldn't see the road at all but were still within earshot. The sun had gotten low in the sky and we no longer saw our shadows. We passed a clearing where there had been a brush fire. The ground was charred and there was a smoky scent in the air. After we'd seen the deer I began to worry about ticks. I was thinking I should have worn light colored clothing so any ticks that hitched a ride would be visible when I got home.

"Is that a bear?" my daughter asked in a frightened voice. I laughed. Nobody had seen bears in our area in 100 years. In the twilight the big rock did resemble a bear. We'd been walking for close to an hour by this time. There were some steep hills and rough spots. We still hadn't seen the bridge and realized that it was getting dark enough that returning the way we came was going to be tricky. We started joking around about how embarrassing it would be to get lost so close to a main highway. We really weren't lost but nobody knew where we were. Neither one of us could carry the other if we got hurt. The trail didn't look like it was accessible to emergency vehicles. We did have our cell phones with us. The GPS showed our location as not near anything. By this time we started seeing bats flying in the trees. It would have been nice to bring along a flashlight.

Trailside wreckage.

In the darkness I saw what looked like a wrecked couch by the side of the trail but found it was the barely recognizable remains of a car. (The camera flash shows it better than we could see it.) I can't see how anyone could have gotten a car or a sofa to that inaccessible spot. We'd seen tire tracks of either ATV's or mountain bikes but no way could a full size vehicle drive there.

Finally the bridge was up ahead. We'd decided that when we got to the other side we'd call home and have someone come pick us up if we could figure out where we were. There was a bench and a kiosk near the bridge which we'd hoped would have some kind of map. No luck there. Only some historical photos of the parkway.

It was fun to be up above the road and watch the cars speeding below us. It was now way too dark to take a picture of our triumphant moment. We watched the cars for a bit then kept on walking.

After crossing the bridge we were nowhere near any road. We needed to go further on before we could have anybody drive to us. There were two marked trails to choose from. By this time my daughter had downloaded a bright flashlight app to her phone. The trail markers were reflective and we could follow them with the light from the phone. One trail led to Legacy Field and the other led to a nearby college campus. We had no idea how far the college was from where we were standing. The field was brightly illuminated and we could see it ahead. We started following the marks for that trail but soon we came to a steep slope that descended into the blackness of a deep, narrow valley. We turned back to the other trail not knowing how long it was. Fortunately this trail veered close to the lit-up field and I was getting pretty tired by this time. "Go to the light" I insisted. It was up a steep, rocky hill but but easy to see where I was stumbling. I felt, at this point, if I fell and sprained something EMS would be able to extricate me without a helicopter. .

We came out of the woods to a turf-covered field where a women's lacrosse game had just finished. Lots of people, cars, and even a Mr. Softee truck. We'd emerged from the wilderness! My daughter called her husband to come rescue us but the gps maps hadn't updated to show the road which led to where we were. We started walking toward the road as all the cars were leaving the field. Soon we were the only ones left in the park. Eventually my son-in-law pulled up and we gratefully climbed in.

We both enjoyed our little trek but next time I try something new I plan to prepare a little better. My concern for ticks is advisable in this area. Lyme disease, spread by the tiny deer tick, is all too common. Dressing properly in wooded areas helps prevent tick-borne illnesses. I won't go to an unknown area so close to darkness next time. A trail map would help too. I've done a little research now and found there are a lot more trails to explore. I'm lucky to have access to all these outdoor walkways. Our town doesn't have many sidewalks and I prefer a little off-road adventure to dodging traffic.

Love to all,
Marlena of Mohegan

Some Days I Feel Like a Rat in a Skinner Box

 If you've ever taken Psych 101 in college you've heard of BF Skinner.  He was a behavioral psychologist who experimented with rats and pigeons.  He used "conditioning" to get the animals to perform tasks by rewarding them with food.  He also used "negative reinforcement" such as an electric shock, to discourage certain behaviors.  There were also mazes in which rats competed for food.  I remember reading endless chapters filled with rat experiments until one day I went a little nuts.  I started ranting that if I read about one more rat I was going to end up in a loony bin!  My roommate had pity on me and dragged me away from my books to a movie.  

BF Skinner and Friend

This morning for some reason old Skinner popped into my brain as I was on my way to work.  I was in the midst of a line of cars that went right from the interstate, through all the stoplights to the parking garage.  We all schlepped in through the access passageway, pushing door buttons, nodding at the security guards, scanning our badges, entering door codes and punching in at the time clock.  It all seemed so mechanized.  

My employee badge has both a bar code and a magnetic strip.  I have to remember which end I'm supposed to use for punching in, opening doors and obtaining medications for dispensing. (all different)  I also now use fingerprint ID for computer sign-on.  I have five or six passwords for different functions some of which need to be changed monthly (more often if I forget it and need to call ITG for a new one).  We just had to learn to use new IV pumps when our old ones were replaced with newer, more complicated models.  Next week we begin using a new automated phone report for transfer of care between nursing units.  I think I feel another rant coming on. 

About 15 years ago our hospital began utilizing robots.  Their names were Roscoe and Rosie (she was nothing like the Rosie on the Jetsons).  The robots were used to deliver food trays or medical supplies.  My reaction was a trifle negative because I felt that I'd rather see a robot that would empty bedpans. Now that's a job I'd happily give away!  Roscoe and Rosie have been replaced by newer models but, like their predecessors, aren't any help in a CODE BROWN (a medical term).  

Actually there really are only three functions at my job that have truly become easier since becoming computerized.  

1. Dispensing narcotics. 

2. Finding my charts.  

3. Deciphering doctor's orders. 

Since narcotics began being locked up someone had to have keys to get to them.  There was only one set of narcotic keys allowed and the usual scenario was that whoever needed the keys didn't have them.  The person who had the keys was the furthest from the cabinet.  Lots of time was wasted in finding out who had the keys.  They were inadvertently brought home, lost in a hamper full of dirty sheets or left hanging in the cabinet door. There was a lot of yelling "WHO'S GOT THE  *#@$^%*X#+{@ keys?".  Now just a badge swipe, a password and a drawer pops open. We don't have to count and reconcile the drugs either. Finding a shortage at the end of the shift meant a lot of harried chart searching to figure out who forgot to sign out a vial of morphine.  Now we are instantly made aware of any discrepancy. 

Charts tended to wander away from the desk.  Doctors got their hands on them and hid them from the nurses.  A chart could end up in doctor's pockets, the dictation room, X ray viewing room, or stuck to the back of another patient's chart.  Some got stained with spilled coffee, blood or worse.  If old charts were needed  we had to wait for a glacially paced courier to deliver them from the file room. It often took days for the dictated charts to be typed.  At one point the dictations were beamed to India by satellite and then the typed charts were faxed back to us.  I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP! (I couldn't  believe this either the first time I heard about it)  So while it is nice to be able to to have a chart at my fingertips any time I need it there is, of course, the down side to computer charting.  We now have to do WAY  more documentation than we ever did before.  

Physicians' handwriting has long been notorious.  I once worked with a surgeon who was so incredibly bad at penmanship that one time he asked me to read something he wrote because HE couldn't decipher it.  His orders were usually easy for me to translate though because he ordered exactly the same things on every patient he had.  I don't know why he didn't just buy a rubber stamp and save himself a lot of time.  Now all our prescriptions completely legible.  It must take all the mystery out of the pharmacists' days.  No more AHA!  I've got it!  But surely a lot safer for everyone.  The advantage of scribbling though meant if you were hauled into court you had carte blanche when you were quoting what you wrote. "Of course I did that.  It says so right here!  (Tlaobyemob slomont0 wa;oxhtbx;l gaodsfjhbasd a'zxc;lgaj[ep)."  

So computers have made some tasks easier.  What wasn't foreseen at the dawn of the computer age was that we were making more, not less, work for ourselves.  We've certainly made more garbage.  Discarded electronics are exponentially increasing our trash.  Maybe that's why all those houses in The Jetson's were high above the ground.  We never knew what lay underneath. 

George Jetson and family

Love to all, 

Marlena of Mohegan

Marlena Gone Viral?

I'm not sure why but one of my posts has gotten over seven hundred hits. Strictly speaking that's not viral but it is a lot more hits than I usually get. The entry "Mr. DeMille I'm Ready For My Close Up" was published on April 1st.  For some reason I'm getting hits from all over the world.  Finland, Hungary, India, Ireland and even Slovakia.  I looked at the stats from Blogger and they show a keyword tabulator.  I looks like my reference or photo of the Titanic might have caused this.  April 15, 1912 was the day the Titanic sank.  Perhaps it is the 100th anniversary on the horizon which has caused my blog to show up on google searches.  All these hits are not resulting in ad clicks or reader comments so I don't think all these people are actually reading what I've published.  In any case, it is nice to feel popular.

Yesterday I went to the podiatrist.  My endocrinologist likes me to go every year to make sure my diabetes has not affected my feet.  Even though my glucose is perfectly under control I will remain a diabetic throughout my life.  Anyway I needed a minor surgical procedure on my big toe.  It is rather painful and it didn't help any that while I was at the grocery store today I hit it with my shopping cart.  I had to miss the gym last night and today.  But my doctor thinks I'll be able to resume my workout by Saturday.  I have some pain medication that works well and if I can just keep away from balky shopping carts I should be fine.

I'd mentioned that I had several medical things to do that I'd put on the back burner because I was concentrating on my weight loss.  I saw my dentist last week.  My dental health has been negatively influenced by my diabetes.  Before my weight loss surgery I felt like I was not going to be living much longer.  I figured I wouldn't need teeth if I was dead.  Now that my early demise seems less likely it was time to do something about my mouth.

I found that I have bone loss on my upper jaw and some serious issues with the upper teeth.  This has affected my ability to chew efficiently which is important for bariatric surgery patients.  It's hard to admit I could have taken better care of my teeth during my lifetime.  Sometimes it is easy to ignore dental health if nothing hurts.  That really was a mistake.  So was letting my blood sugar get out of control.  I could continue here to be negative about all the poor choices I've made but that's not where I'm trying to go.  The main goal here is to improve my health in all areas.  Clearing up the conditions which caused the bone loss will influence the well-being of my whole body.

The other day at the gym I noticed some handouts on the counter in the ladies locker room.  The title on the page  is "The SIZE of my Life" and refers to a book by the same name by Karen Cigna.  Karen has published a memoir of her lifetime of dieting and being every size from size 2 through size 26 and learning to love herself unconditionally.  The handout had a "diet" of ways to accept and nurture your self image.  When I first started to read this I thought about a time in my life when I decided I was not going to diet anymore.  I'd had enough of the vicious cycle of losing, regaining and exceeding the weight I'd been before I'd started.  I figured I would do less damage by staying where I was. That thinking was flawed. Of course my weight didn't stay the same. I got bigger.

Some people are able to maintain a constant weight.  Their activity, diet and personal metabolic rate are all nicely coordinated to keep them within 4 or 5 pounds of their ideal weight.  I hate those people.  Well perhaps hate is too strong of a word.  How about despise, loathe, detest or maybe abhor?  What I really feel is probably all that verbiage is aimed at myself for not being one of them.

 There were a couple of times in my life when I controlled my weight without effort.  The first time was when I was a freshman in college.  I was on a limited food budget and did a lot of walking.  I dated a guy with no car and a long stride.  I played racquetball, hiked and worked a part-time job.  I noticed my clothing becoming loose.  It was wonderful.  The spell broke when I went home for the summer.  That year it rained for the entire month of June.  I couldn't find a job and I spent a lot of time reading and eating.  By the time I went back to school in September I'd managed to gain back what I'd lost.

The other time when I couldn't seem to gain weight was my second pregnancy.  I had a lot of morning sickness during the first few months.  All I could keep down were pretzels and diet Pepsi.  By the time I got over all the nausea and vomiting we had one of the hottest summers of my life.  I drank a lot of water and I sweat gallons.  My doctor wanted me to have extra testing because I wasn't gaining enough weight.  I went ballistic.  I said "You people are never happy".  During my previous pregnancy I kept hearing that I was gaining too much. This time I ended up gaining only 17 lbs.  My baby weighed over 9 lbs.  When you count the weight of the placenta and the amniotic fluid it came out pretty equal.  Afterwards I could wear clothing that was too small when I became pregnant!  Again, it was wonderful.  Some women say breast feeding helps them to weight postpartum.  It didn't work that way for me.  Naturally.

So I've spent a lot of time and energy being negative and critical.  It takes a lot of effort shift the focus to being positive.  One by one I'm addressing my personal issues.  I might check out Karen Cigna's book for some advice on feeding myself a diet of love.  She has a website www.sizeofmylife.com.

One caveat though.  I can love myself at any size but I still want to be at a healthier weight.  I've reversed a lot of medical issues by losing 170 lbs.  Some of the damage can't be repaired and I'll live with that. There's still room for improvement however, so I'm not giving up!

Love to all,
Marlena of Mohegan

Reality TV-Stephen King Saw It All Coming

The Kardashians, The Goeslings, Pickers, Hoarders, Pawn Stars, Snooki, Biggest Loser, Bachelorettes, Redneck Weddings - WHERE WILL THE INSANITY END?  Someone once said "You can't go wrong aiming for the lowest common denominator".  All you have to do is pick any channel on the TV and there you are.

Maybe I'm weird but when I watch TV I like to be entertained.  Reality TV doesn't really do much for me.  I tried watching Trauma, Life and Death in the ER but it was too much like my job.  I can't watch The Biggest Loser.  I felt humiliated for the contestants.  The criteria for elimination based on pounds lost is really unfair.  Sometimes you work like hell, stick to your diet and your body doesn't want to give anything away that week.  I did follow America's Got Talent and American Idol for a while.  At least the contestants are trying to entertain an audience.  Dancing With the Stars is ok.  Again, the contestants are performing to the crowd as well as the judges.

I really prefer plot driven shows.  Its much more enjoyable to take a little trip into a fictional world or historical era than it is to see the pale underbelly of society's misfits (either celebrity or not).  I especially despise pseudo-celebrities who have no discernible talent for anything except being born to someone else who is wealthy or talented.

There are a lot of courtroom shows where people sue their former tenants, bff's or family members for unrepaid loans, damages or back rent.  The most entertaining part of these shows is when one of the litigants is so sublimely stupid the judge has to point it out for him/her.

A little more worthwhile are shows with home repair or cooking which are, at least, semi-educational.  Although, why I would want to cook something exotic in a limited amount of time is not abundantly clear.  I wish I could have seen Holmes on Homes before I hired the Moron Brothers (that's only an alias) Construction Company to do renovations on my house.  Mike uncovers improperly executed building and repair jobs and makes them right.  The down sides of this show is that nobody ever talks about how much it costs to undo the damage or who pays for the repairs. Nor do they give tips on tracking down the slimeballs that trashed your home. .

Stephen King wrote a novel The Long Walk back while he was in college around 1967. Published in 1979, originally under his pseudonym Richard Bachman, it chronicles a future world game show/sporting event where 100 contestants walk against each other for a prize of  anything they want for the rest of their lives.  There is no second prize.  Only the winner survives this race.  The others are executed by rifle shots if they falter or drop out. The spectators and home viewers cheer, gawk and bet on the outcome.  Like Nascar fans hoping to see a crash, the Long Walk offers the possibility of someone earning their "ticket" (death shot) while they watch.  Extreme?  Yes.  Possible?  Maybe someday.  I think our voyeurism and. urges for sensationalism will ultimately lead to something of this caliber.  We like being horrified.  When The Long Walk was written Let's Make a Deal, Password, The Match Game and The Dating Game were typical shows.  Today we are much closer to King's future world than I expected.

Jim Carrey's movie, The Truman Show, is another look at extreme reality TV.  Poor Truman is a manufactured child in a manufactured world with spycams watching every facet of his life.  He does not figure out till he is well into adulthood that everything about his existence is fake.  At the end of the movie he emerges from his bubble into the outside.  I almost had the urge for a sequel here to find out how Truman managed to adjust to the "real world" after leaving his "reality world".

I've toyed with the idea of my own reality show.  I'd call it something like "Four Generation House".  The "Baby Boomers", now also referred to as the "Sandwich Generation", have elderly parents and returning children (with THEIR children) living with them.  This is the case in my house. So much for an empty nest.  I don't know if there is a market for a show featuring seven people coexisting in an 85 year-old, 1500 square foot house with plumbing issues. Actually I'm not sure we could fit a TV crew in anywhere and still act like we don't know they're there.  Would you be interested in watching our arguments about who is cooking tonight or who left the mess in the bathroom?  What about the disaster of the back yard shed when the tree limb fell on it? Then there are the dysfunctional neighbors who feed and attract wildlife such as deer, groundhogs and skunks.  Sound fascinating?  Let me know if you're interested in sponsoring this exciting concept for a show.

Love to all,
Marlena of Mohegan

UPDATE 4/14/2012

When I wrote the above post I had forgotten that Stephen King had another published look at the future and  the state of reality TV.  "The Running Man", also initially published under under his pseudonym,  takes place in a dismal 21st century world where the gap between the classes has become a huge abyss.  "Freevee" is the airwaves anesthetic meant to entertain the poor and keep them content in their squalor.  Like "The Long Walk" contestants risk death to compete for wealth.  The GA, or games authority, rewards viewers for their participation leading to the demise of the contestants.  The scariest part of this book is the ending which is an eerie predilection of the events of September 11, 2001.

I find it interesting to read stories of the future and live long enough to see what actually comes to pass.  In Stephen King's 21st century we still drive mostly American cars (including Studebakers) and  may smoke on airliners.  Our inner cities have become completely lawless and OSHA doesn't seem to be doing anything for factory workers.  Air pollution has become so toxic that personal nose filters are the only hope of avoiding lung cancer.

  I wanted to read 1984 before the year got here and thankfully that world has not come to pass.  However, webcams are more and more prevalent these days so Big Brother is able to keep an eye on us in public.
In the movie "Back to the Future II" the characters go forward to 2015, a mere three years away.  I don't think we'll have flying cars by then.  Jaws XV was currently showing and home-prepared fast food was done by rehydration.  I'd like to be able to "beam up" like on Star Trek. I'd also like some of the home appliances from The Jetsons.

I'm veering off the subject of reality TV here.  I hope it never gets to be as bad as Stephen King imagined.  Viewers please find something else to do!

Love to all,
Marlena of Mohegan.

Fears, Real and Imaginary

A couple of entries ago I mentioned my bathroom reading.  If I don't see anything to read in someone's bathroom I might look in the medicine cabinet for a bottle of mouthwash or a box of Bandaids.  I'm not particular.  I once read in an advice column, probably Ann Landers or Dear Abby, an annoyed reader had a nosy friend who was always checking out her medicine cabinet.  Ann or Abby suggested that when the nosy friend was expected over that the reader load her medicine cabinet with marbles.  When the friend snooped the next time the marbles would cascade noisily in the sink give her away.  Ever since I read this I've been worried about having this happening to me someday.  Lately I usually find something on my cell phone to read which is much safer.

When I was about six years old my family was visiting friends.  We were all sitting outside and I went in to use the bathroom which was upstairs.  After I washed my hands I couldn't seem to turn off the water faucet.  It hadn't occurred to me to try drying my hands first.  The sink started filling up and I was getting worried.  I had no idea that bathroom sinks have those little holes that let the water out if it gets too full.  In my mind I saw a Looney Toons cartoon where a character filled up an entire bathroom because the tub overflowed.  I started yelling frantically out the window so someone would rescue me before I had to start swimming. For a time there I was truly frightened that a disaster was imminent.  Naturally the family had a good laugh at my expense.

We all have fears. I'm not overly afraid on insects or rodents but if I'm surprised by one I might scream.  I like to tell myself that I don't have irrational fears or phobias but strictly speaking that's not true.

Look Ma No Hands!

At one time in my childhood I could ride my bike without holding onto the handlebars.  I had a three speed bike and I could ride completely around our block without using the handlebars or the hand brakes.  I was pretty impressed with myself.  Unfortunately one day the gearshift, which was a little loose, slipped off the handlebar and got caught in the spokes of my front wheel while I was coasting down a hill.  The front wheel stopped dead and the back wheel flipped over me.  I took most of the impact on my forearms which were covered from elbows to wrists with "road rash".  Though this all happened before anybody had heard of bike helmets, miraculously I didn't damage my head at all.  My friend, who had seen the entire thing, said "I know you are in pain but that looked really cool". Style points notwithstanding, I hobbled home with my bike seeking some first aid from Mom.  I healed without visible scars but I was never, ever able to ride "no hands" again.  Not on that bike or any other.  I certainly knew how but my brain would not let me.

For some reason I imagined that aerosol cans might explode in a suitcase in the non-pressurized luggage compartments on an airliner.  When I left for college I did not want to pack any spray deodorant or hairspray and preferred to buy new cans when I got there. In all my flights through my whole life I've never packed any spray cans in my bags.  I really don't use any personal products from aerosol cans nowadays so the issue is really moot. There are some unsolved airliner explosions though.  You never know if they could have been caused by an depressurized can of Easy Cheez in someone's bag.  Nobody suggested this fear to me. I made it up all by myself.

I'm not the most patient person regarding other people's fear and anxiety.  (I tend to look away and roll my eyes).  One time I was talking to my husband about riding horses and he stated emphatically "you're not getting me on a horse".  I hadn't really planned to get him near any horse but I was intrigued by his response.  I tried to get him to tell me why he feels this way and he got really annoyed.  This got my curiosity even more aroused but after 28 years of marriage I still haven't gotten this secret out of him.  I thought maybe his parents tried to force him onto a pony for a picture. His mother isn't saying.  Anytime I want to get an argument started I can bring up the subject of horses and in no time at all we're there.

Cast of What's Eating Gilbert Grape?

Morbid obesity can be a symptom of "agoraphobia" or "fear of the market place".  People sometimes get so fat they can't get out of the house at all.  One of Johnny Depp and Leonardo DiCaprio's early movies "What's Eating Gilbert Grape" examines this phenomenon.  His mom hibernates in the living room because she's too fat to get up the stairs or go out of the house.  I was nearly there.  I used to get so short of breath going up the stairway in our house it would take me about ten minutes to catch my breath  I'd go down in the morning and avoided climbing up the stairs until bedtime.  This took a lot of organization on my part to not need anything from upstairs all day.  I still went to church and the grocery store but not many more places.  I certainly didn't walk anywhere!  Most places I did go I knew I was the biggest person in the room.  Children stared.  It hurt.

Why, do you ask, would I want to bring this up?  Well, I need to remind myself of a couple of things.
1.  I've come a long way.
2.  I don't want to go back there.
3.  Even though I think I'm way too logical for needless worry, I'm not immune.
4.  I should quit all the worrying and just do stuff.

Love to all,
Marlena of Mohegan

Mr DeMille I'm Ready for My Closeup

Nora Desmond, a character in the Film Noir classic,  Sunset Boulevard, was an aging, former silent film star.  She tried desperately to hang on to the fame of her youth with tragic results. I don't wish to imply that I identify personally with this character but I do enjoy performing on stage.  I like the feedback from an appreciative audience and miss the adulation when its over.

 On Monday I felt the usual post-opera let down.  It is so depressing after a week of performing to return to work and home life with no applause or curtain calls.  I know I am appreciated by my family (and hopefully my patients) but they just don't show it as enthusiastically as the opera fans do.  


This is the chorus of Don Pasquale before a performance.  I'm the one who is dressed as Madame Butterfly.  Quite a conglomeration of characters aren't we?  Did you think opera was boring?  Not the way we do it.

If only life was directable like a stage performance.  (My spell-check doesn't like the word directable.) I think I've mentioned how my job is getting to me.  I've dealt with the high-stress environment of the ER for over 30 years.  I'm feeling like it is time for me to do something else.  Just exactly what else I'd like to do is a dilemma.

Then there is my family.  My mom is 80 years old, lives alone in a senior apartment building but is in need of more supervision lately because she is showing signs of Alzheimer's disease .  Then there is my son who has Asperger's syndrome.  He is very intelligent but needs to continue his education and find a career.

I have some of my own health issues I've been ignoring because of my focus on my weight loss.  I've also neglected my fiscal health and my checking account is in a state of complete anarchy.

I'm writing this blog in the wee hours after midnight.  I should be sleeping but I like the silence of night when I write.  I went to the gym today but my eating has been chaotic.

It is difficult not to focus on the stressors in my life.  I've tried to be a "glass half full" optimist.  I love that spring has blossomed early this year.  I enjoy being with my grandchildren.  I love having a body that can do things it couldn't two years ago.  But sometimes I want to succumb to the temptation to go up to my bed and pull the covers over my head to ignore all the demons.  There is a lot of whining going on here.  I hate whining.
This year marks the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic.  Things could be worse.

Love to all,
Marlena of Mohegan