Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

The ladies are out on the bay, sailing away in their prams today. A pram is an old-fashioned shallow draft boat with a squarish bow. Imagine rigging a sail to a row boat and you have an idea what a pram looks like. Sounds weird but these little floating dinghies are perfect for sailing in the bay off Caladesi Island near Dunedin, Florida. Caladesi, by the way, has been rated the #1 beach in the United States.

It's an all-women sailing club and most of the gals out on the water today are over fifty. Although the boats are small, they're just the right size for having fun without a whole lot of effort. Even in a diminutive vessel, sailing can be wonderful recreational therapy. It's relaxing and enjoyable exercise with the wind in your hair, sunshine, fresh air, sparkling blue water and the comarraderie of your sailing companions. Not to mention...a round or two of Margaritas for the lady salts after a dandy day out on the water.

A few Sunfish sailboats get ready to join the prams out on the bay.

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TEN AUDACIOUS REASONS TO FAIL

Over the past year, the world has witnessed a series of colossal failures: Bank closings, real estate foreclosures, huge corporations going broke...the list goes on and on. Sometimes it seems as if failure is rewarded as in the mega-billion dollar corporate bailouts. For the rest of us average folks, failure can be ruthless and often no fault of our own. And we don't get no stinkin' bailouts. I got to pondering the merits of success and failure and I realized that even though we all would much rather succeed...it behooves the human spirit to experience failure every so often. Failure can actually be an audaciously good thing and here's why:

1. It didn't hurt Conan O'Brien. He got fired and forty million dollars.

2. Failure is empowering. We gain knowledge and insight from our blunders which provide a powerful incentive not to repeat the same mistakes. 

3. Failure builds character. If we're able to shake off disappointment, renew our determination, accept responsibility and not wallow in self-pity, we become stronger, self-reliant  and more likely to find solutions.

4. Failure can be awe-inspiring. We screwed up. So we're not perfect. Who cares? We're still alive and we've learned things that we didn't know before which makes us wiser and better off than when we started.

5. Failure offers us positive opportunities...to examine what went wrong, explore better ideas or experiment with totally different strategies.

6. Failure gives us freedom...to accept what happened and move on...or not. We can choose to discard the negative and rise above the ordinary. We can take calculated risks and learn to become fearless.

7. It's part of the creative process. We should embrace failure as one step closer to achieving our goal. Failure encourages us to think outside the box. It spurs our creativity and ignites our imagination. We should capitalize on our mistakes and not be embarrassed by them...unless we're John Edwards or Tiger Woods.


8. Failure separates our loyal friends from fair-weather ones and identifies who we can rely on for support when the going gets tough.

9. Failure gives us a fresh start. It expands our horizons and emboldens us to dump the bad stuff and turn adversity into advantage.

10. Failure teaches us a valuable lesson in survival. We either succumb to the depths of our misery or we regroup, reflect, reinvent and recognize that "Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new".....Albert Einstein. Sphere: Related Content

Fog Is Not My Friend

Outside my window, the fog slithers in like a boa constrictor, squeezing the light from the late afternoon. It’s sunset time where I am on the Gulf of Mexico. And on any given day in this part of Florida, the sky is aglow with a brilliant orange conflagration. But today is different. The air drips with a viscous mist. Quietly and disarmingly, the fog enchants you with its mysterious, smoky shroud. Then before you know it, you’re blindsided by its deceptively gauzy yet tenacious hold. The street lights come on…ghostly blurs of amber flickering in the haze. Some people enjoy the fog. They find it tantalizing and seductive. I for one do not like fog. It’s eerie. It conceals things. It’s scary if not downright spooky. On the road, it’s dangerous. The poet, Carl Sandburg, wrote: "The fog creeps in on little cat feet.” Fog is creepy but not like a sweet, cuddly kitty. More like a slimey, wet snake. And I don’t like snakes. The fog is cunning and conniving. It threatens with a chilling silence. It will snatch away your children if you’re not watchful. The fog will reach out its wispy, fiendish fingers and grab you by the throat and do untold harm. No, I am not a fan of fog.

Outside my window, the mist is subsiding. At last, the late afternoon sun…the glorious, golden, guiding light of mankind…peers out from the murky gray shadows. Somehow, I know everything will be alright again. Sphere: Related Content

Waiting for Knology

I've been waiting all day for the Knology guy to come. The what guy? By way of brief explanation: Knology is an internet/cable company...the only choice we have in Dunedin, Florida where I am spending a few months this winter. As far as I'm concerned, it's a really dumb name for a communications company. It's not catchy and it doesn't exactly roll off your tongue. Loosely translated, I think ology is Greek for "the study of" as in criminology, theology, biology. So what are the Knology folks trying to convey? That they specialize in the study of...knowledge? I could come up with a better name in my sleep: How about Teknology? Maybe that was already taken but if it's not, I got dibs on it. Anyway, what they really need to bone up on is how to treat their customers effectively and courteously. The fact is that their internet connection to my new laptop seldom works. For the past two weeks, my computer has been going on and off. On and off. On and off. I fully expect it to disconnect before I get through writing this post.

Two weeks ago, I called Knology and told them we had a problem. They said they'd send a technician out in two days. "Could they give us a time frame?" I asked hopefully. "Sometime during the day", was their response. "But we'll be sure to call ahead and let you know we're on the way." So I stayed inside on a perfectly beautiful day and waited for the technician to come. Finally around 4 p.m. my laptop sprang back to life. The service person never showed but I figured maybe they were able to remotely fix it.  Around 8:30 at night, the door bell rang. At 8:30 here in Florida, it's very dark. I wasn't expecting anyone so I looked out the window. I didn't see anybody. Then came another buzz on the bell. I was by myself so I cautiously opened the front door. Standing outside was a guy with a 3 day beard growth, rumpled clothes, big boots and a sloppy shirt. Not the sort you'd invite inside. I thought he had the wrong address. Then he asked: "You need service?" Not from you, if you were the last man on earth...I thought to myself. Then I noticed some words on his shirt: Knology. Turns out he was the technician although he hadn't bothered to identify himself, nor phone ahead. I debated whether to let him in because it seemed like the problem was fixed. Then I thought maybe he could take a look...just in case. So I let him inside.

All the while he was in our house, I was nervous. He wasn't friendly and looked more like he'd been out digging up sewers, than solving computer problems. He spent exactly 2 minutes at my laptop keying in some jibberish on the screen and said: "OK, all fixed." I was more than happy to show him out the door. 

Shortly after he left, my laptop went down again. It's been going on and off ever since. I called again. This time, their office told me somebody would come out on Friday between 2 and 4 pm. Today is Friday. It's almost 6 o'clock in the evening. I'm still waiting. Knology never showed. They never called. Amazingly, I'm nearly at the end of this post and my laptop is still connected. But it won't be long before the connection shuts down again. And I'm waiting and I'm waiting..... Sphere: Related Content

Haiti Earthquake Survivors Teach Important Lessons

The massive earthquake that shook Haiti one week ago, did not shake the faith of the people who live in this impoverished Caribbean nation. Some estimates predict the death toll may eventually reach 200,000. The disaster buried thousands upon thousands under tons of collapsed buildings. For nearly the entire first week after the quake, Haitian survivors endured with little or no water, food or medical care in the blistering tropical heat. I can only imagine the unspeakable agony of the suffering victims as they laid helpless on the dirt ground or as they dug with their bare hands in a valiant search for loved ones.

As I watch this heartwrenching human drama unfold from the comfort of my living room, I am awed and deeply moved by the astonishing spirituality, humility and courage of the Haitian people who have survived. It is only one week into the tragedy, yet out of the chaos, several images captured by TV cameras stick in my mind:
      The rescue of a woman who was totally buried under several floors of concrete for SIX days...only to be found by the persistence of her husband. The first thing she did after rescuers finally pulled her out was sing. On the stretcher, covered in dust and debris, she lifted her voice in lyrical praise to the Lord with a song of rejoicing.
      Survivors marching in spontaneous procession down a rubble strewn street, their arms uplifted and joyously...yes, joyously, chanting and praising God.
      A young woman pulled from mountains of concrete...her leg amputated in order to save her, calmly tells relatives: "Don't cry for me. Pray for those who didn't make it."
      Signs of life: a bustling street market with vendors selling a smattering of fruits and vegetables. The first steps in returning to some semblance of normal routine.
      Sunday Mass at an undamaged church..hundreds of parishioners in their Sunday best, most of whom have lost everything in the quake...attend Mass and celebrate their survival by clapping and singing.

In this catastrophe beyond measure, the global community can learn much from the passionate resolve of the Haitian people. They are deeply religious. Their faith is woven into the fabric of their life and those threads of faith are what they cling to in this tragedy. Instead of feeling abandoned by God, many Haitians say the quake has strengthened their religious fervor. They do not blame God. Instead they seek refuge in their faith and are thankful to be alive.

I am struck by the incredible inner joy of these long-suffering and devout people. Their devotion to God, their sense of gratitude, their optimism about life in the face of extreme hardship is a testament to their resilient spirit and persevering nature. Even in their darkest hour, the people of Haiti are teaching the world the power of faith, hope and love. Sphere: Related Content

Haiti Apocalypse

The horror of Haiti. It's hard to imagine hell in the middle of paradise. But for decades, Haiti has been the scourge of the Caribbean. A forlorn, mountainous island that's been plagued by unstable and corrupt government, violent rebellions and wicked dictatorships, brutal torture, voodoo culture, scorching poverty, horrific disregard for human rights, deplorable desecration of the environment, blood-thirsty drug gangs, devastating hurricanes, mudslides, floods and now...a monstrous earthquake.

I'm sure the Haitian people are seriously questioning why God hates them so much. What did they do to deserve such miserable chaos in their lives? Is their unimaginable agony a manifestation of divine wrath? Has God totally forsaken Haiti? Indeed, if there truly is a God...why would he so systematically punish such a downtrodden little island nation? There are outsiders who assert that the Haitians themselves brought many of their troubles down upon themselves years ago.

I make no claim to answer these existential quandaries. We don't always understand why things happen. Personally, I believe these catastrophic events are a supreme test of faith. An epic test of the character and goodness of mankind...or lack thereof. The manner in which human beings react and respond when tragedy befalls others with whom we share this planet offers a profound insight into the human spirit. Do we rise to the challenge with compassion and generosity? Or do we succumb to the baser levels of disinterest and noninvolvement?  I believe that in adversity, you just can't ask "Why?" or "Who's responsible? Sometimes you just have to give of yourself in the best way you can...no questions asked. Sphere: Related Content

A New Twist on the Bucket List

For this new decade of 2K10, I considered making a Bucket List. You know...where you write down all the things you'd still like to do before you kick the bucket, aka die. Then I read about an upended version of the Bucket List...the shuck it, chuck it, F#*k It List. Ironically, your F#*k It List is pretty much the same as the Bucket List. Only difference is that you give yourself permission to forget about doing a lot of the stuff on your Bucket list. Simply put: don't do it...screw it and set yourself free.

For me personally, a F#*k It List removes all the pressure to sky dive out of an airplane just to prove I am fearless; to climb Macchu Picchu, to run a marathon or to finish the book I've been struggling to write for the last 10 years. At this stage of my life, I accept the fact that I am not fearless. I am afraid of things but I have learned to overcome my fears and move forward. I am a strong person. I've battled cancer, other serious ongoing health issues and devastating personal situations with humor, determination and optimism. I am a thriver, not just a survivor. I may never write the great American novel but apparently after 10 years, I really don't want to finish my book. The only reason I'd like to run a marathon is because many of my friends have done it. Since I'm extremely competitive, I think "Why shouldn't I run one too?" But then why subject myself to pain and possible injury when I don't have to?  Duh. No pain, no gain. Forget that. Life should be pain free and enjoyable. Walking, talking, laughing, hoisting a glass of wine and soaking up a gorgeous sunset not gasping for breath as you stumble along a city street, in the cold and rain, dodging traffic and feeling like your legs are about to be ripped off your body. No thank you. But that's just me. 

Truthfully, I'd still like to visit Macchu Picchu because I love to travel. But if I don't get there, I'm not going to beat myself up about it. That's the beauty of the F#*k It list. You can give yourself permission to chuck all of your previous aspirations or only some of them...with no regrets. Make no mistake. It's not about turning into a couch potato. It's not about giving up. It's not about punishing yourself by setting unrealistic feats of endurance. I still have goals and dreams. But I've come to realize that in reality, I've actually achieved much of what I was hoping to accomplish. I don't need to jump out of an airplane to determine if I'm a risk-taker. I already know I have taken huge risks over my lifetime...business risks, personal risks, emotional and physical risks. Most of them worked out just fine.

We all share a desire to be happy, healthy and comfortable and have people in our lives who are kind and give us support when we need it. Of course, we must reciprocate. And that's what it's all about. So for me, I am relinquishing some old expectations and embracing new opportunities. I'm focusing my energy and attention on people I love and respect. I may not go sky-diving because I truly don't want to do such insanity. But I can walk along the Great Wall of China. I can reconnect with long lost friends and explore Alaska. By this time, most of us know who we can count on and who we can't. It's OK to shuck the schmucks in your life. They only make you miserable.

Once you write down your chuck it, shuck it, F#*k It list, you will feel liberated and alive. If you still want to jump out of an airplane, go for it. You might want to wear a parachute. But if you don't like having your brains sucked out of your head as you're yanked into the wild blue yonder, let it go. Move on and relish other opportunities and possiblities out there for you. Do what you value most. Release issues you cannot control. Be flexible and open to change. Embrace spontaneity. Humor goes a long way. As the inimitable comedian, George Carlin used to say: "Enjoy the ride. There's no return ticket." Sphere: Related Content

Movie NINE is Minus Zero.

I generally don't go to the movies. We Netflix instead. As a matter of fact, I haven't been in a movie theater in over a year...maybe longer. But a friend asked me to go with her to see "NINE" and since it was a cold, gloomy day in Dunedin, Florida, I accepted her invite. We got to the theater and there were 10 thousand old people in line. I'm not joking. Turns out it was seniors day. Five bucks per geezer. To make matters worse, it was a 20 multiplex theater with only one cashier. My friend and I fit the age criteria but we didn't want to wait in line because we figured tickets would be sold out by the time we got to the front. Luckily, my friend has a keen eye and spotted a credit card ticket machine outside. These devices are a brilliant invention and nobody was using it. She stuck her credit card in the slot, punched a few buttons and out popped 2 crisp, blue tickets for the movie NINE. We did a quick happy dance then ran inside and found the very last seats in the entire theater...way, way, way in the back. We were so far up and to the rear, we could touch the back wall...and the ceiling. Nonetheless, we still had a good view of the screen and the sound system was fine. I looked around and noticed that every seat was occupied by somebody who grew up knowing the names of all the original Mouseketeers or the Little Rascals or had served in WWI.

OK, enough of the prelude. Here's the main point of this story. Do NOT, I repeat do NOT go see the movie NINE...unless you are a masochist. It is excruciatingly, outrageously, painfully, atrociously dreadful. Boring doesn't even begin to describe it. After the first 5 minutes, I prayed it would end quickly but it dragged on and on and on for what seemed like a lost weekend at a mortuary. Hours of sheer, unadulterated, tediously dull, insipid monotony. Oh, did I mention it's a musical?

The movie is set during the 1960s and revolves around the life of a famous but tortured Italian film director and his lust for women. It is based on the influential Italian director Frederico Fellini, who was known for his distinct cinematic style of blending fantasy and sexual desire. La Dolce Vita and 8 1/2 are two classic Fellini films.

If ever there was a movie audience that might have been the least bit receptive to NINE...it was the crowd of old boomers packed in the theater with us. In our heyday, we actually knew who the real Federico Fellini was and we adored Sophia Loren. Back then, we were mesmerized by the glamorous Italian lifestyle, chic fashion and fast cars. Oleg Cassini, Lamborgini, Gucci and Gina Lollobrigida. We dreamed of living the sweet life in Rome, having a romantic tryst with a beautiful Italian, riding a flirty Vespa motor scooter while belting out Cuando, Cuando Cuando. Well, at least some of us did.

So it was with great disappointment that this film, in my humble opinion, did not deliver...anything. It was a collossal waste of my time and of the multi millions of production dollars spent on it. There was a lot of singing and dancing...out of which came not a single show-stopper song or even a catchy tune. For the most part, the music was downright depressing. After a while, I inwardly groaned every time somebody opened their mouth to sing. Flamboyant, elaborate sets, surreal dream scenes, extravagant costumes and tons of gaudy sex still don't make this movie the least bit interesting. Watching spaghetti boil would have been much more entertaining.

I did enjoy the location scenes of Rome...the ancient buildings, narrow streets and sexy little Italian sports cars. There are a bevy of popular and beautiful actresses in this film but I was most fascinated to see legendary movie icon, Sophia Loren again. Her bio lists her as 75 but I bet she's pushing 80. Even so, she looks fantastico...absolutely stunning. 

Throughout the movie, I had the weird feeling I was watching an Italianized version of the award-winning film CHICAGO minus a plot, decent acting, superb dancing or kick-up-your-feet music. I enjoyed CHICAGO very much and I'm shocked to learn that the fellow who directed NINE is the very same guy who directed CHICAGO. How could he go so abysmally wrong?

When the film finally ended in anticlimatic fashion, the audience seemed so totally glazed over from hours of monumental boredom that we didn't realize it was indeed finished. It was like a sentence left in mid air. But when the entire screen abruptly faded to black, I swear I heard everyone in the theater whisper, "Thank God, that's over."  For five bucks, I could have had a tasty lunch of linguine and meatballs instead of enduring what amounted to one man's pathetic obsession with the female buttocks and Italian cigarettes. Sphere: Related Content

My Walkabout Dunedin

Tall masts overlooking Gulf of Mexico. Dunedin, Florida.

Currently, I am staying for a while in a quaint little Scottish town on the Gulf of Mexico called Dunedin, Florida. Brick streets, funky shops and tasty eateries. And of course...there's the beautiful Gulf with sailboats bobbing up and down as far as the eye can see in the sparkling water under a glinting sun. It's an easy walking town and I take advantage of that almost daily. Yesterday on my walkabout here's what I encountered:

• An outdoor wedding in the park between a rather "mature" man and woman. I congratulated the blushing bride and she said: "Oh, this is my 6th husband and he's been hitched 4 times before."  I wonder if they'll last through February.

• Two young children zipping through the park on rollerblades followed by what appeared to be their elderly grandparents...also on rollerblades, laughing their heads off while struggling to keep up. The grandmother nearly took a tumble but one of the kids grabbed her and granny straighted up and continued merrily rolling along.

• Lots of bike riders cycling along the bike/walking trail. Several of them were riding very low-style bicycle contraptions that nearly touch the ground. I don't know what they're called but the rider nearly lays prostrate and peddles. Looks awkward but I've heard it's quite comfortable. I'll have to rent one and see for myself. If you can lay down and ride a bike...how cool is that. And if it had a cupholder for my Margarita glass...sold!

• An older gent standing on the sidewalk looking befuddled and disgusted...both at the same time. I stopped and asked him if he needed help and he said he couldn't find his car in the nearby parking lot. I offered to assist and in a few minutes we found his car. He got in, started up and drove away...no longer befuddled but still disgusted and crotchety. A simple "thank you" might have been nice.

• Thousands of stately Spanish oak trees. The giant trees grow all over Dunedin and many are several hundred years old. They produce long, mossy plumes several feet in length that dangle down from the branches. The plumes swish and sway in the breeze like feathery-gray cotton candy.
  

Come on down and join me!

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Jose Cuervo's a Friend of Mine

Jose Cuervo's a friend of mine
He knows how to treat me mighty fine
Turns a Margarita into a real good time
Jose Cuervo's a friend of mine.

When life throws me a few hard knocks
I like Jose on the rocks
A double shot and a zesty lime
Takes the edge off in record time.

Forget about your whiskey or your girly wine
Jose sends tingles down your spine
Whatever the weather...be it rain or shine
Jose likes to party all the time.

If I'm blue or feeling down
Jose Cuervo rides into town
He's cool and fun to be around
And makes me smile instead of frown.

Some folks warn he's the devil in disguise
Wickedly smooth with hypnotic eyes
They say he's a fake, corrupt and crude
But after 2 drinks, I'm in love with this dude.

When friends have all deserted me
And no one helps in my adversity
Jose lifts my spirits..we laugh with glee
And raise a ruckus til quarter to three.

If you would like to meet Jose
You drop my mi casa any old day
I will introduce the two of you
And you will sing his praises too.

Jose Cuervo's a friend of mine
He knows how to show me a mighty good time
In a fancy glass or a plastic cup
Salt the rim and bottoms up.

CHEERS and HAPPY 2K10 to all my loyal readers!

DISCLAIMER: Since I wrote this little ditty, I've learned that there is a country tune with a similar title about a gal who drinks too much tequila and spends the night with a cowboy. For the record, my post is absolutely my own creation. I don't drink all that much and I've never slept with any grungy cowpokes. Sphere: Related Content

Ho Ho Florida Christmas

A traditional Christmas...in Florida. Is there such a thing? Can you really get into the holiday spirit in a land where hurricane season has just ended and soaring humidity soaks up every ounce of your energy?  We're here in Florida for the Christmas holidays celebrating the birth of a brand new baby grandson and enjoying spending time with our daughter and her family. We live up North where right this minute, they are being bombarded with snow. Mountains and mountains of snow. Call me crazy, but I miss the fluffy white stuff...especially at Christmas time. Down here in Tampa, sunshine, balmy weather and palm trees just don't put me in a festive spirit. Store window posters of Santa Claus slumped in a beach chair and tossing back Jose Cuervo, don't inspire a holiday mood for me. Although it does make me hanker for a Margarita. Frankly, I would much rather experience falling snow, frosted windowpanes and a cozy fire in the hearth on Christmas Day than sweltering humidity and flip flops.


Nonetheless, we're embracing the warm tropical weather and are thankful that we're not slipping and sliding across ice covered roads. What? I just heard that a cold front may be moving in...low 70's. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Sphere: Related Content

An Uncomplicated Christmas...Chapter 4

Christmas has come a bit early for our family. A tiny, precious Christmas cherub was born to our daughter a few days ago. Positively adoreable with the face of an angel, our healthy, new little grandson brings blissful joy to all of us. 

There is nothing else in life that compares to the birth of a child. It is the awesome majesty of life itself. One day, a baby is curled in the womb and the next day...he's nestled in your arms. The anticipation, pain, discomfort, stress and worry of the previous nine months dissolve into elation, wonder and tears of joy.

This year, I am trying to keep the holidays as uncomplicated as possible. Yet the birth of a new baby certainly adds a huge element of excitement to the season along with changes, adjustments and compromises. As our family celebrates the birth of our sweet, little fellow, we reflect on the birth of another child over 2000 years ago. A child that came into a complex and complicated world in a most humble and unpretentious manner and changed mankind forever. We know not what the future holds for our little bundle of joy. But as we gaze upon his angelic face slumbering away in dreamland, we realize that for now, our beautiful infant boy is the best Christmas gift of all. Sphere: Related Content

On the Road Again

Valdosta, Georgia. Motel room. 4 o'clock in the morning. I'm wide awake. My husband is sleeping like a rock. A noisy rock that snores like a bulldozer. Other than that all is relatively quiet. It's the last leg of our road trip south to Florida for the birth of our newest grandchild. Our motel room is dark except for the glow cast by my laptop. I pull back the curtains just a bit to look outside. It's pouring down rain. Water pellets beat against the window and it sounds almost like hail. A scrawny palm tree out front sways in the wind like it's about to topple over. I look down at the parking lot. There are about 20 cars below me and nearly every one of them is white. A red neon light flashes from somewhere and reflects an eerie, mesmerizing, flickering beam off the car bumpers...on-off, on-off, on-off. I wonder if I watched it long enough, would I become hypnotized? Across the street, there's a Starbucks that's closed and a giant red and yellow Dennys sign pleading for customers. Past the parking lot is a Big Foot quickie food mart. I've never heard of a Big Foot store but frankly it doesn't sound very appetizing. I envision some huge gorilla-like beast at the check out register with donut glaze smeared over his hairy face and 3 empty beer bottles behind the counter. Oh wait...that was at the place we stopped at yesterday. Anyway, at this time of early morning, Big Foot is closed.

Just then I spy a solitary, dark figure walking down the sidewalk. It appears to be a very tall, rather heavy set man. Nobody else is around and there's only an occasional semi truck roaring by. It's still raining a deluge outside. I wonder where this lone individual is headed. No umbrella. Hard to tell if he has on a jacket or not. He must be getting drenched to the bone. Does he work the early shift at Denny's? Is he out for an early morning cup of java? Does he own a car? If so, why is he walking in this miserable weather? Did his girlfriend just dump him?  Is he the real Big Foot? Could be a million reasons why he's out on such a dark and stormy night such as this but I'll never ever know. In another minute, he vanishes from my view.

Just another night like any other night in a motel room in Valdosta,Georgia. Thankfully, we'll be leaving at daylight. Sphere: Related Content

Uncomplicated Christmas...Chapter 3

Seems like my dream of an uncomplicated Christmas is flying out the window faster than that nasty grinch stole Christmas. It's now less than 24 hours before my husband and I will head out on our 1000 mile road trip to Florida for the birth of our second grandchild. But before I can even start packing up the car, I'm to be subjected to the inglorious horror of having a very long and very sharp needle stuck in my throat. 

After a visit to an endocrinologist-thyroid specialist two days ago, I was told I have a large cyst on my throat and a tumor on my thyroid. So today I'm going for a biopsy to determine if it could possibly be thyroid cancer. Drats! That insufferable grinch is having a field day snarling my plans for a simple, less stressful holiday.

I spent all last night on the computer googling "thyroid biopsies". Do I know how to have fun or what? I discovered that the surgical instrument used for this procedure is a very long, very fine and extremely sharp stainless steel needle. My brain envisions a giant, finely-honed knitting tool.

During my googling search, I came across an actual video of a throat biopsy. All I can say is GROSS!  Always trying to look on the bright side, I'm thinking maybe it won't be so awful what with a honking blast of pain-killer anesthetic injected first. NOT! I read that most doctors and even patients generally forgo the anesthetic because they say it's excruciatingly painful. One online comment from some poor soul who endured the anesthesia compared it to: a dozen angry hornet stings. Another person said the pain from the injection was so bad, they kicked and screamed for nearly half an hour. Somebody else actually fainted...and that was the doctor! So now I'm supposed to undergo this entire procedure WITH NO PAIN KILLER!!

Five more hours to go til my throat is pierced with a cold, steel, precision sharp, elongated, surgical needle...not once, not twice but SIX separate times. They want to make certain they suck out plenty of tissue for the pathologist to examine. Afterwards, I'm guessing my throat will be black and blue and maybe even swollen for a while. And it will take about a week before I learn the results of the biopsy. More anxiety... just waiting and waiting. But we're still planning on driving off to Florida at the crack of dawn tomorrow.

If I ever get my hands on that miserable grinch, I'd like to stick a knitting needle up his bah-humbug butt. Sphere: Related Content

Uncomplicated Christmas...Chapter 2

Just two short days ago, I wrote about how I was dreaming of an uncomplicated Christmas. No sooner did I post that piece then that evil grinch showed up and began to play sly tricks on us to spoil our fun. It's now a mere 24 hours before my husband and I will hop in our white SUV and head to Florida for the birth of our second grandchild. Yet that miserable grinch could not let things rest. Yesterday, we learned that my daughter was rushed to the hospital because tests at her obgyn's office showed abnormalities with the baby. After she spent nearly 15 hours at the hospital, doctors concluded that the baby was perfectly fine and the initial tests were screwed up. Thank God, it was all a false alarm. 


So now I'm thinking...OK, that whole incident gave us quite a scare but now we can all calm down and proceed with my plans for an uncomplicated Christmas......to be continued Sphere: Related Content