• Home
• Contact
• About

Monday, May 02, 2011

This is a party I will skip

Pardon me as I make my exit from this party, I really don't wish to participate in a celebration of death.

Life is precious, whether it is an inconvenient fetus, a precious and welcomed child, a Godly and righteous Christian, a lost atheist or a global terrorist. We are all the same in God's eyes.

Now don't get me wrong, I am as angry over the atrocities of 9/11 as anyone else, as well as all the other terror attacks perpetrated by these savages. I am as harsh of a critic on Islam as anyone could ever be. I do believe that Osama Bin Laden was the mastermind and chief architect of 9/11 and bears full responsibility for the deaths, injury and damage he and his cohorts inflicted upon all of us - that is, the entire civilized world. And I believe that Islam is the antithesis of Christianity, and is evil through and through.

But as a Christian, I cannot and will not celebrate the death of anyone, especially not with the jubilant joy that is on display in the streets of America. To me, it is every bit as ghoulish as the Palestinians that handed out sweets after the murder of an Israeli family, killed while sleeping in their beds, all of them, including a 3 month old baby.

Celebrating death is not something civilized people do. Not even when it is justified and well-deserved. Yes, it is a good thing that he can no longer perpetrate evil in this world and cause further death and misery to those he deems his enemy. I do understand the dangers with capturing and imprisoning him. But killing him will change what exactly? Al Qaida will carry on, doing their evil in the world. A new leader will step up eventually and take the reins. If anything, Bin Laden's death will breathe new life into the fervor and rage of the Islamists around the globe.

Shortly after I first heard the news, I saw a post on Facebook from a pastor whom I greatly admire. He said, "Remember Beloved, God has no pleasure in the death of the wicked. Ezekiel 18:23." and "Harsh, godless responses to UBL's death are easy, not appropriate, natural, not spiritual. Watch your heart and tongue Christian."

Ezekial 18:23 reads: Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, declares the Lord GOD, and not rather that he should turn from his way and live?

Thank you, Pastor Steve, for helping me put to rest the conflict in my heart and to face this with a Christian attitude.

On the way to work today, I listened to K-Love, a Christian radio station. Many callers were sharing their thoughts. This one struck me, and I posted it to my Facebook wall:

Only one man's death ever changed the world, and we celebrated that a week ago.

"For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ!" --Romans 5:17

And this:

“Though I celebrate the fact that Osama bin Laden will never commit another act of terror, never bomb another embassy, never give another hate speech, never blow up another building, never train another terrorist, never hijack another plane, never take another innocent life, I refuse to celebrate his death, for to do so would be to embrace the same hatred that fueled these heinous acts.” ~Randy R. Reed©

In God's eyes, each one of us is both as righteous and as wicked as the next. We are all sinners, we all fall short of the glory. The difference between those who will see the Kingdom of Heaven and those who will not is not God's esteem for us, for he has offered each and every one of us the same gift of salvation, but that each of us has made the choice to follow Christ and be saved, or not and be condemned for eternity.

We should never, ever celebrate what is surely a lost soul being condemned to the fires of Hell. Over and over, the Scriptures tell us that judgment of sin is for God, and God alone.

[10] Why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God; [11] for it is written,

“As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me,
and every tongue shall confess to God.”

[12] So then each of us will give an account of himself to God.

(Romans 14:10-12 ESV)

Today, instead, my thoughts and prayers are with the people recently affected by the tornadoes and thunderstorms that tore through the South last week, and with the people of Nashville, who suffered horrific floods one year ago today, and as always, with those around the world suffering poverty, cruelty and terror.

God is in control, and His Will be done.
Amen.

Wednesday, February 02, 2011

Pragmatic Project Management

One of our clients is getting ready to make some upgrades in their implementation of the product we support. Prior to making these changes, they have analyzed all of the issues they have experienced, and with our assistance, found either resolutions or work-arounds and created an action plan. This particular bullet point struck us as rather amusing ...

5. Delay in execution of Report

a. Risk: Execution of reports have a long delay the 1st time you go into this module. Subsequent reports do not have a delay.

b. Cause: Report Logic and data is being cached into memory during the 1st report execution.

c. Work Around: Train staff on how to be patient. The report will run, but it may take a few minutes before you see the results.

We are hoping that they can share this particular training plan with us.

Tuesday, February 01, 2011

Why I got fat; And I what I am doing about it

I have been posting on Facebook about my weight loss efforts, and after having posted a before and work-in-progress pictures, I am sure there are some folks that are a bit surprised, shocked even, to see what has become of that little, teeny, skinny chick you used to know ... you know, ladies, the one you used to mentally hiss at as I swung by in my itty bitty size 2 jeans. I will be upfront - in the last 7 or 8 years, I put on about 60 pounds. Yup ... you got that right - SIXTY pounds of flabby blubber hangin' off my once incredibly hawt bod. It's OK, you can gloat. Now get over it and pay attention ... this is important.

OK, this is the me that used to be ... weighing probably about 110 - 115 pounds. Those are Guess jeans, waist size 24. I normally wore a size 2 and my waist measured 22 inches.




That was on my 35th birthday - 1999. I stayed about that same size until sometime around 2003. By 2009, when I got married again, this is what I looked like ... my dress is a size 14, and only by the grace of God and Spanx was I able to squeeze into it that day.




Ughhh ... I know, right?

So, what the heck happened? How in the world could a slender young woman who could eat anything she wanted without gaining an ounce get to look like a fat cow? Holy crap ... that's ME and I still can hardly believe it!

Well, in a nutshell, what happened to me is low fat diets. And what got me on that low fat diet was too much processed convenience foods, too much refined flours, too much sugar, and not enough fat. That's right ... NOT ENOUGH FAT. If you want the detailed explanation of that, check out this book, Why We Get Fat: And What to Do About It by Gary Taubes.

He could have written that book about me and my weight gain adventures. Seriously. And if you are avoiding natural fats in your diet to keep your weight down, or to lose weight, you really need to read that book too.

Long ago, when I would find that a few pounds creeping on, or my jeans getting a bit snug, my go-to eating plan would be chicken, rice and broccoli for dinner every night for a week or two, and I would skip the ice cream and other treats too. It worked. Then. But then a good bit of weight showed up, and I had to get serious about it. My parents had gone on the American Heart Association Heart Healthy diet and lost an amazing amount of weight. So, I sort of followed suit, but I had no idea what I was doing. I just went for low fat ... if it had no fat, it was all good. Rice, pasta, pretzels, even Tootsie Rolls were allowed. But no butter, oil, cheese, ice cream and the like. I would lose some weight, go back to my regular habits, then it would come back. Lather, rinse, repeat. Factor in also that my lifestyle changed - I was no longer working on the ambulance, burning hundreds of calories every call, every shift. I was sitting at a desk all day ... blithely munching away on Tootsie Rolls and Bit O' Honeys all day, then going home and cooking a meal fit for a teenage boy. Plus ice cream for dessert ... low fat ice cream, that is.

So, five ... ten ... fifteen pounds crept on. Then when it became 20, 25 I became mildly concerned. But not really ... at the same time, I completely lost interest in dating. No, that's not quite right ... I became downright hostile towards the idea of being involved with anyone romantically. So I was fat, that just kept the jerks away from me.

Well, times and attitudes change, and the good Lord led me to a good man and that's all been written about before. But at the same time, I found myself caring very much about my appearance again, now that I had someone to look good for. We were engaged, and I was 40 pounds overweight. I was having so much fun being in love, I scarcely noticed that another 20 pounds crept on! In the 3 months leading up to the wedding, I busted my ass in the gym three nights a week, and I counted each and every gram of fat that crossed my lips. It was a carb free for all though. And I weight exactly the same on my wedding night as I did 3 months before. When I got the wedding pictures back, I wanted to die. I could not believe how gross I had gotten to be.

Emotionally devastating ... oh yeah. But I plugged on, following the recommendations for a healthy diet that would lead to weight loss as promoted by the Department of Health, the USDA, WebMD, my personal physician and just about every Tom, Dick and Harry that I would ask. Eat less, eat low fat foods, exercise more. I did as instructed and the scale remained right where it was. Eventually, I nearly gave up.

Then something happened that completely rocked my world (which is very private and personal, so don't ask ... ), and I knew that I had to do something and quickly. Everything I hold dear on this earth depended on my losing this gawd-awful blubber that had accumulated on my skinny self. Being somewhat OCD, I needed a highly structured plan that I could count on - today I will eat this, this and this. So, I got on the Medifast plan. It's like Nutrisystem - food is ordered and delivered to the house, five meals a day plus one "lean and green" meal that we cooked. Rich got on the plan too - as you can see from the wedding picture, he had a pound or two to lose too.

It worked, somewhat. My loss was very slow. The plan boasts an average of 3 to 5 pounds a week. I was losing less than 2. (Rich, on the other hand, was losing 5 to 8 pounds a week!) Though stressful, depressing and disheartening, I carried on. In 4 months, I have managed to lose about 30 pounds. That's still 30 more than I was in the first picture, but I was no longer obese, as classified by my BMI. My waist has gone from 38 inches to 30. I can wear size 8 jeans again, after being in 14s for the last couple of years. Light at the end of the tunnel, but still so far away ... and I was feeling like crap most days, with no energy, fighting the depression and general malaise. My skin broke out, hair is thinning, and other changes were taking place in various bodily systems that were disturbing at best, at times agonizing.

And then I came across Gary Taubes' book, and then another one, The Perfect 10 Diet: 10 Key Hormones That Hold the Secret to Losing Weight and Feeling Great-Fast!. Reading these, it finally all fell together and I figured out what had happened to me ... the low-fat diet, along with the processed, refined grains and carbs that acted together to wreck my metabolism and pile the weight on me. Even the Medifast diet is horrible, nutritionally speaking. Eating 800 calories a day, with less than 30 grams of fat, most of it engineered food and the majority of the protein coming from soy isolate protein is not good for any body. Mine is in full rebellion. The only good part is the weight I have lost, and that I have "detoxed" off of sugar and refined carbs.

I am going to start eating according to the information in these two books starting next week. Why wait until then, I don't know, other than I need time to plan and shop and reorganize my kitchen and life. I know now that what I have been doing has been all wrong ... totally wrong. I have been lucky in that I only put on weight. I could have become diabetic, developed cancer or serious heart disease. I already have heart arrhythmia and some blood imbalances with Vitamin D and iron. I hope it's not too late.

The Perfect 10 diet is one that I am familiar with ... eat whole, natural, unprocessed foods, including fats and oils. Carbs are not restricted, but eaten in moderation from vegetable, fruit and whole grain sources. Organic, preferably. Why familiar? Well, back when I was earth-mama with little babies, wearing Birkenstocks, keeping an organic garden, making all our bread myself from whole grain flours, buying our food from a whole-foods co-op, I lived that lifestyle ... and despite having one babe after another, eating as I pleased - from good, whole, natural foods - I lost pregnancy weight quickly and without even trying. And I stayed slim even after moving away from that way of eating for years ... until I started following the doctors and nutritionists recommendation to limit fats in my diet.

So here I am, 4 months ago and now ...



Check back later to see what happens next. Oh, and Rich's weight loss? He's blogging about it at his site ... go check it out.

Please read those books ... most likely, what you think you know about good nutrition and weight loss diets is all wrong, especially if you got it from the government. Seriously, what you don't know could kill you.

Monday, November 22, 2010

I want your text, baby ... or very serious undertakings

So, two of Rich's daughters are expecting baby girls within a few weeks of each other this coming winter. They decided to have their baby shower together, today, while the out of town sister was here for Thanksgiving. We've been crazy busy with the bathroom renovation and generally getting the house ready for the holidays, and I hadn't had time to shop. So, I went today on my lunch break ... and sent a text to Rich to let him know that I did so.

I'm thinking our communication skills are a bit .... lacking ..
Me: I went shopping on my lunch hour ...

Him: What did you get?

Me: Just a few little things

Him: Like ... ?

Me: VERY little things

Him: Like ... ?

Me: Like ... little pink things

Him:

(Can you see where this is going yet?)

Me: Like ... little tiny, soft pink things with bows and flowers and frilly stuff that makes grown women go SQUEEEE!!!

Him: How about grown men???

Me: Well, the ones around here (My team is all men, 'cept me, of course) generally went "Hmmmphf!"

Me: A couple rolled their eyes

Him: ????

(At this point, I knew we definitely had a failure to communicate ... )

Me:

(A number of minutes go by ... )

Me: What the heck were you thinking???

Him: Lacy frilly undertakings!

Him: Underthings!

Him: I hate predictive text

Me: (After picking myself up off the floor, wiping the tears from my eyes and catching my breath ... ) Well, either one works ...

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Husbands and Shopping - a Bad Combination

Being still fairly newlywed, Rich and I like to spend as much time together as possible. He even accompanies me on shopping trips, although he does still balk at shoe shopping - but that's a story for another time. However, I may need to rethink the wisdom of letting him come with me, given how he is both very clever and easily bored. The management of one of those big box stores was not amused at his antics, and according to the letter I got, neither of us is welcome back in that store.

Here is the letter* ...

Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against your husband are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras:

1. June 15: He took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking.

2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute
intervals.

3. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.

4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company money.

5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms;on layaway.

6. August 14: Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.

7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.

8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called.

9.. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.

10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.

11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the ' Mission Impossible' theme.

12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his 'Madonna look' by using different sizes of funnels.

13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'

14. October 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed 'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'

And last, but not least:

15. October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then yelled very loudly, 'Hey! There's no toilet paper in here.' One of the clerks passed out.

I just can't take him anywhere ....


*Yes, this was stolen from somewhere. It's still funny ... and can't you just see Rich doing many of these things?!

Monday, November 01, 2010

Turn Around ...

Where are you going my little one, my little one
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Turn around and you're two,
Turn around and you're four,
Turn around and you're a young girl going out of my door.
Turn around, turn around,
Turn around and you're a young girl going out of my door.






Where are you going, my little one, little one,
Little dirndls and petticoats, where have you gone?
Turn around and you're tiny,
Turn around and you're grown,
Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own.
Turn around, turn around,
Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own.

Friday, October 08, 2010

Do Over

Just in case anyone reads this thing anymore, I have updated the software that runs the site, and in the process, I am cleaning up the server and getting rid of some old stuff that I don't need on here. I will probably redesign the site along the way and get a better defined focus, Stay tuned!

Thursday, June 17, 2010

God said Yes

The Bible tells us that God loves our prayers. We are to pray to Him our praise and worship, tell Him the desires of our hearts, request guidance and strength in our daily lives, and ask that He speak to us. The Bible also tells us that God can and will perform miracles for us, even today - He confirms and attests to us His love and our salvation "by signs and wonders and various miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will." (Heb 2:4)

For the first time in my life, I have found myself in need of a true miracle.

On Memorial Day, Rich's youngest son was in a car wreck. His Jeep slid on a rain-slick curve and ran off the road. He sustained a head injury, in addition to broken ribs, lacerated lung with hemo-pneumothorax, and a minor fracture of his ankle. After a 90 minute extrication, he was rushed to the nearest trauma center. In the ER, he was responding appropriately, smiling at his dad and laughing with his best friend. Due to the knock on the head and the fractured ribs, he was taken to the ICU for observation. Shortly after arriving there, his level of consciousness started to decline. An astute nurse saw this and soon, Luke was being put under heavy sedation, intubated and put on a ventilator. A CT scan showed bleeding in his head and he had signs of increased cranial pressure.

While more than a little concerned, I felt assured that God had this under control. Of course I was praying for healing and recovery for Luke. The possibilities they were speaking of were very dire - the name for the injury he had is Diffuse Axonal Injury. A bit of research on the term revealed a very grim prognosis. Of those who sustain this kind of brain injury, 90% will never wake up. Of those who do, 90% will have major cognitive and/or motor deficits. Of the rest of that 1% the injury results in minor to moderate disability. When I read this, I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I prayed harder.

Wednesday morning, after I spent much of the previous night in deep prayer, the CT scan was repeated. Praise God in Heaven - the damage turned out to be very minor, limited to a small part of the brain and best of all, was not progressing. While he still had sustained the damage from the bleed, it was small.

Our celebration that Luke would be OK was short-lived however. As they started to back down the paralytic that was keeping him still, they soon found that his lungs were not functioning very effectively. After only three days on the ventilator, he developed ARDS - acute respiratory syndrome. His lungs were stiff, filled with fluid and could not transfer oxygen effectively to his bloodstream. They had to keep him on the ventilator and let his lungs heal - but the Catch 22 is that being on the ventilator is what made his lungs sick in the first place.

Over the next week, his progress went from 3 steps forward and 2 steps back to 2 steps forward and 3 steps back. We continued praying - seeking God's face and His divine guidance and reassurance. Rich got some answers, but I still felt adrift and useless. My faith sustained, I continued having faith that Luke would still recover, and I focused on being there to support my husband while he was there for his children and family.

As the days turned into a week, and Luke made little to no progress, in my prayers, I asked God to show me what I needed to do. Two things kept coming to my mind ... the word "supplication" and the verse Jeremiah 29:11 - which happens to be my life verse: "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope." To this I answered, "Guide me, Holy Spirit, to do the works commanded of me. Use me as you will."

Sunday evening, I was preparing to leave the hospital when we were called back to speak with the doctor. He gave us the news that we had hoped to never have to hear, that Luke was deteriorating and was headed to what was eventually going to be his final respiratory crisis. It could be days, it could be hours. But there was little else that could be done. But there was one hope - a special bed that would allow them to easily change his position to prone, and rotate from side to side and tilt up and down. The chances of this bed working were small, and the risks in moving him were great. It would take several hours for the bed to arrive, as there were only three in the region. I believe Rich knew that he had to go for the only chance we had - having already placed Luke in God's hands. With my support, he told the doctor to go for it. Get the bed. It was already on the way.

The doctor also told us that it would be reasonable to gather the entire family at that time - even the children who were far away. One daughter in Birmingham, one in California, and even the son deployed with the Army in Iraq. The calls went out and local family began gathering at the hospital within minutes.

And then I began praying. I was begging God to not take him, that we needed him here with us. I said, "Your will, Lord, not ours, but please hear our prayer that he stay here with us - healed, whole and healthy. Lord, Lord, Lord ... please don't take him! Have mercy on his father, his mother, his family, and most of all on his beloved Lindsey. Please don't take him, Lord ... DON'T!"

Even as I spoke with Rich and the rest of the family, that prayer repeated unceasing in my mind. Then we were called back to Luke's bedside. He was deteriorating faster than previously thought. Though his oxygen levels were good, he was not perfusing well, CO2 was building up and he was becoming acidotic. They needed to move him to the prone position right away. But this would be an additional move, and another big risk of causing an irreversible crisis.

We had a while to be with Luke while they prepared for the move. God came down and weighed on me heavily. Hardly thinking about it, I just did it ... I went to Luke's side and layed my hands on his chest, and then I prayed.

I prayed with every ounce of energy, every fiber of my soul, and with every bit of love in my heart. Now it seems as if in a dream, all I remember is repeating the prayer over and over, "Your will, Lord, not ours, but please hear our prayer that he stay here with us - healed, whole and healthy. Lord, Lord, Lord ... please don't take him! Have mercy on his father, his mother, his family, and most of all on his beloved Lindsey. Please don't take him, Lord ... DON'T! In the sweet name of our Glorious Lord Jesus Christ, I pray!" alternating with that supplication that was demanded of me, "Lord, I know I am unworthy, my prayers are but a whisper, but I come to You humbly begging for Your grace and favor. We need a miracle for this child of Yours, please hear me, Lord, and grant us this miracle. In His Name, Lord ... I beg of you!"

Tears washed from my eyes in great torrents, I was shaking and my legs quickly grew weak, but I knew I had to keep on. I had God's ear and I meant to shout our pleas into it. The nursing team was moving around me, I was barely aware of their presence, yet I was taking it all in, every detail. One nurse's aid, despite the gravity of the situation, made jokes and laughed. I prayed for grace and compassion for her. I prayed for divine guidance of the medical team - "Lord, be here with us, work through the nurses, guide their hands so that no harm comes to Luke!"

Rich and I stood across the hall as they moved him, holding each other, still praying. And then it was done. His numbers were bad, and we all held our breath waiting for him to recover. The prayers were unceasing - "A miracle, Lord ... oh please grant us this miracle!" And slowly, but surely, Luke's numbers crept back up ... but we would still have to face the move, and risks, again when the bed arrived later that morning.

Although I was able to speak to others, I remained in this prayerful state. We finally retired to the family lounge to try to sleep, but I could not relax, and so I prayed.

They started calling other families back for doctors rounds at 7:30. They called us last, around 8:30. The bed was there and they were going to start moving him soon. It was a new shift of nurses by then, and Luke had held on in his face down position quite well. We had a glimmer of hope that the bed would be beneficial.

Again, as they prepared, I prayed with my hands on Luke. The same prayers, with some thanksgiving for the hope we had received ... the same physical and total emotional and mental involvement, with same dreamlike state as before. This time though, when the team was ready to start the move, they stopped ... and then they circled around Luke with us, we joined hands and were lead in a beautiful prayer by Jeanie, the clinical specialist.

It would take about an hour to move Luke, and due to the size of the bed, and close quarters in the room, they had us leave the ICU and return to the family lounge. As we did, a strange and wonderful sense of peace settled over me, and I knew in my heart that Luke was going to be OK.

A little while later, we went back in to see Luke in this huge bed ... hanging upside down, gently cradled in this crazy looking contraption, Luke began healing ... REALLY healing. Within a couple more hours, his oxygen was up at near normal levels, and his CO2 was dropping. His fever, though encased in the bed without the cooling blanket, came down to 101. By every measurement and number, he was doing so much better.

Three days later, as I write this, he has improved magnificently. The medical team is astounded. We again speak of WHEN Luke wakes up, not IF. The family that was called in from out of town, and out of country, is not here for the worst a family can face, but a celebration.

We are seeing a miracle unfold here ... the doctors tell us that Luke could wake up with cognitive deficits and possible long term or permanent damage to his lungs, which could limit his activities. But I firmly believe, and have faith that when God starts a miracle, he finishes it. Luke is going to be OK, really OK.

There have been hundreds of people called to pray for Luke, to ask God for this miracle. Hundreds of people obeyed that call. Their lives have been blessed. We are seeing this miracle. We asked, He answered ...

God said "Yes"

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Holiday Greetings to ALL of my friends

None of the cards offered for sale these days offered greetings that all of my friends would find acceptable and non-offensive, so I had to come up with a compromise. This should work for just about everyone ...

To All of my Liberal Readers:

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, our best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. We also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2010, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country nor the only America in the Western Hemisphere . Also, this wish is made without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wish.

To Our Conservative Readers:

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year in the year of our Lord Jesus Christ 2010.

I love you all ... really I do!

Thursday, October 29, 2009

When routine isn’t so routine

I finally got around to getting a complete physical exam last week, my first in several years, and lemme tell ya, there was nothing routine about it. I am still shaking my head in disbelief over what has happened. I see the hand of God at work, but in ways that I do not yet understand.

I went in with the primary objective of finding out why I gained a pile of weight and lose any of it in the last year and a half, despite a low calorie diet and regular exercise. My doctor had blood drawn and in addition to the regular lab tests, said she would check my thyroid and metabolic profile. Then after recalling that my last mammogram was suspicious but never followed up (I was laid off from my job about then, and just now have a job with medical insurance benefits), she ordered another one ... right away, that day. Then she did an EKG. After that, I got dressed and was about to go schedule the mammogram for later that day.

My doctor came back into the exam room. She was quite concerned about my EKG. She showed it to me, where the T waves were inverted or flattened (inverted in aVF and flattened in lead III, for those who know this stuff). From my training and experience as a paramedic, I knew this was not a good thing, and I recognized the abnormality myself. The most likely cause of this change or deviation is a prior anterior myocardial infarction ... that's fancy medical talk for heart attack.

Now imagine not only my shock, but utter disbelief. I already mentioned that I eat a low fat diet - which includes very little beef, even the lean stuff - and that I exercise regularly, but I also have always had low blood pressure - it was 98/72 that day, my resting heart rate is around 68 - 72, and the last time my cholesterol was checked it was 145. I have always enjoyed obnoxiously good health. Heart attack? Me? Surely not!

So then, in addition to the mammogram being scheduled for later that afternoon, I was also set up for a nuclear stress test two days later, an echo cardiogram two weeks later and several follow up visits. Oh, and a referral to a dermatologist for a suspicious freckle on my nose, but more on that later.

So, what does any self-respecting woman do after receiving this kind of news, and who then had two hours to kill before getting her boobies smashed? She goes shoe shopping ... that's what.

The stress test was excruciating ... I was so bored. And hungry, and thirsty. I had to be fasting for 4 hours prior to the test, with water only. And NO CAFFEINE! Auugghh! The technician placed an IV port in my arm and injected the radioactive solution. I sat for about 30 minutes while it circulated, then I laid on a table while my heart was digitally imaged. Yes, I snoozed. Then I was hooked up to the monitor leads, and a resting EKG was run, then I sat for another 30 minutes. I snoozed some more. Then the doctor came in and I got on the treadmill. After walking for about 5 minutes - more slowly than my normal pace - it was sped up to what is for me a brisk pace. When I attained the target heart rate, more radioactive solution was injected. I stopped and they measured how long it took for my heart rate and blood pressure to return to normal, which was not long. Years of regular exercise? Yep. But the doctor said that there were still some concerning changes in the rhythm, so I was ordered to avoid any kind of strenuous activity. Then I sat - and snoozed - some more, then it was back on the imaging table, where I took yet another nap. Then I was done. I left wondering, so when is the *stress* test?

So then the waiting began. This was Thursday, they said the results of the test would be back Monday or Tuesday. Of course, no news Monday, but on Tuesday I got a message while at work from Rich saying the doctor's office had called his cell phone and left a message for me to call. Apparently, they thought his cell was my daytime phone? But when I finally spoke to the nurse, all she had was the results of my blood tests - all normal, except a severe deficiency in Vitamin D, for which they want me to take a supplement plus a once a week prescription strength dose.

Remember that dermatologist referral? Consider that with the Vitamin D thing - you know, the sunshine vitamin? Ponder for a moment and hold that thought ... we shall return to this.

Towards the end of the day Wednesday, with still no call about the stress test results or the mammogram results either for that matter, I finally called the office and asked that someone check to see if they were in. I left work and went to choir practice at church. Of course, they called just as practice was starting, but I discovered later that they left a message for me on their lab line - a phone number that patients can call to get messages and test results.

So I listen to the message left for me - my stress test came back completely normal. No signs of ischemia, tissue damage or dysrhythmia, and all values were within normal limits.

After I picked my jaw up off my lap, and giving praise and thanks to the Lord Almighty, my first thought was, how in the stinkin' heck could this be? I saw the EKGs, I know what the rhythms mean and the possibilities. Remember, almost all my blood work was completely normal. Remember too that during the stress test I had EKG changes that concerned my doctor too. I was and remain baffled. They still want to do the echo cardiogram, but they don't think that I am in any immediate danger.

OK, I will go with that. No problem. I am sure God has a lesson or message for me in there somewhere, and now my prayer is that it be revealed to me.

I also got a letter about my mammogram - recall that it was concerning a few years ago - it too, is completely normal.

Oh yeah, that dermatology appointment. The doctor doesn't like the freckle on my nose. Even though she hasn't seen me in years, she swears that it is bigger now and looks bit scaly. Now, I am quite skeptical about this. I have been a very good girl over the years, and I have always worn makeup with sunscreen in it. I do not leave the house without at least some foundation on, and when at the beach or pool, I put additional sunscreen on not only my face, but my entire body.

Lemme tell ya how devoted I am to protecting my skin from the sun ... remember what the one abnormal blood test was? Yep, Vitamin D ... the sunshine vitamin. Go figure, right?

No wonder men, like my dear husband*, are scared to death of getting physical exams. This has been crazy! Oh, and that primary objective? I guess I am on my own there. My thyroid and metabolic profile are normal, and other than being curious about it, the doctor didn't have much to say about my inability to lose weight.



(*But he better man up and get his butt in there anyway, he is WAY overdue!)