TROLLING

Surfside vacation

Fishy's on Crescent Beach soon

Lunch @ Salty Dog?

Burning Truths & Guineas

 I have siblings.
Together we share parents each of whom have cardiac issues. We will soon lose our mother to this  illness or it's side effects. Our dad is otherwise in reasonable health and has a new edition pacemaker.  We hope to enjoy him a few more years. Maybe another decade?

During one of Mama's touch and go hospitalizations, her cardiologist looked at those of us gathered around the bedside and asked this question, " You have each had a cardiac evaluation and baseline stress test, right"? I am sure we looked like a bobble head line up . None of us bobbled affirmatively. He glanced toward our stricken mother then flipped her chart open while saying, " Didn't your grandmother suffer from congestive heart failure too"?  She did.  Before Doc Cardio left the room he illuminated  the genetic probabilities for us.

As far as I can  remember we didn't much comment on these illuminations.
None of  whipped out our cell phones to schedule stress tests either.

Now that I am the official siblings test guinea I can tell the others to come out of  the shadows and step onto the treadmill. It won't kill you. Or hurt you. Really, scouts honor and hope to spit.

Rarely do the waiting room brochures describe your upcoming experiences. That is surely why God invented siblings.


I will admit to a wee twinge of anxiety when they started an IV so not once, but twice, I could have radioactive material injected into my bloodstream. I might have asked about the " first do no harm" idea but the folks doing this part of the prep were not docs and who knows what oaths they utilize? At least the IV got started on the first stick and not the sixth.

Following this introduction they process you into a room where  one technician , one Nuclear Cardiology PA, one treadmill and a CPR cart are  standing by. No question these folks are knowledgeable pros who do their best to explain things clearly to prevent anxiety. They did mention the need to attach a dozen or so electrodes to my chest.  They did NOT mention the need to  first sandpaper my skin to improve adherence of the electrodes being attached.  Okay, this was a bit uncomfortable but not unlike a dozen skinned knees. Nothing
noteworthy. It's not even hard to be still and not itch the sandpapered areas while they take your vitals and  do a baseline EKG before "getting started".

Following this they explain the treadmill, 12% incline at blah-blah speed to get the cardio beats per minute above 140 for a sustained period. The EKG machine records cardiac function under stress and then later an imaging machine allows them to see how well my radioactive injected blood was making the journey through my coronary arteries. Okay. Clever technology to make my blood radioactive so it could be seen without need for scalpels.

They had no  cheerful 12 pack cutie standing by to encourage me to " go for the burn" because, trust me, the burn will get there. My daily hour with wii advanced step aerobics is not even vaguely similar to this treadmill routine. I had muscle burns everywhere . Everywhere.  And then there was the breathing. That loud, labored sucking noise was indeed coming from me.  Twenty years ago , following the great neck breaking debacle, I was forbidden to ever more do any activity which bounces my neck. I have not jogged or run a  single step since then. I have not swum laps since moving to the Pond as I do not bathing suit in public. While I do "power walk" and wii, these mild maintenance protocols are not aerobic workouts. It was not pretty. I was a burning, sweat soaked, air sucking mess trying desperately to not end up face down on a treadmill.  The "team" chattily tell you  everything is fine when your brain is telling you it's time to fall on your knees and repent .  They also tell you they will continue to measure  cardio  function during the  "recovery" from the treadmill exertions.  Right. As if you could actually  hear what they say with that much wooshing in your ears.

The next part is down the hall to spend half an hour getting your coronary arteries imaged. The fact the machine looks like a 007 set where men with metal teeth try to kill you is irerelevant.  It's just a machine and  while it looks like it is going to crush any remaining breath from your tortured lungs, it actually doesn't touch you at all.  You 'get' to return 2.5 hours later to repeat the images.

Not hard in any way.

Unless you have a hard time being still. Or going hungry for 16 hours. They let you know results in 24 hours if they are normal, they call your doc if results are not. 

My results: NORMAL.

No cardiac issues found.

No valve issues.

No compression issues.

No vascular issues.

NORMAL  :- )

So maybe I have dodged a genetic bullet.

What I cannot dodge is this eye opening reality.

Get in shape NOW. It does not get easier as you add years.

Making the Effort

You know  the saying,
 " it isn't if you win or lose, it's how you play the game which counts"?
I do not agree with this. Just a quick review of the days headlines  will smack you upside the head with a reality check. Right, lots of examples of how you can play by the rules and lose everything while the bad guys get paid bonuses to steal your future. Then of course we can get totally stressed and confused with the scarey notions of staving off de-flation by forcing in-flation. Right.
Sadly, we did this to ourselves by returning to power those who have forgotten the people they are elected to serve. I know, Pollyanna again.

In a recent conversation a wise friend mentioned her viewpoint about  how this November is critical to our nations survival. Wiseone believes if Americans do not oust incumbents then we are doomed. A clean sweep is my idea of marvelous but not all agree with me.  And I get her point, if daily headlines are insufficient to move voters off their sofas? What then can we expect.

I talked with another friend  asking if our nation unravels where would he go? The response was deliberately vague leading me to wonder if he does indeed have a spot picked out. Or purchased?
What was interesting to me is this. Five years ago had I asked this question I would have been laughed out of acceptance. Now, the question is never a surprise and answers are cagey. " Not sure, you"? or
" my decision is as unstable as the Euro".  Does this mean the relocation isn't European or is it simply meant to divert the conversation?

On a recent longish drive I gave some thought to:  if this could happen how?
How much money could be realized from  liquidating all assets and would it be enough to live elsewhere to my end? Unknown. And, where is better? Can I resolve to live in a dirt floor hut reeking of bug spray and draped in netting to prevent malaria?

 Not likely.

Some images are not funny.  At the top of the cartoon dollar  do you see what it says?
 "Federal Reserve Note". Since we have no Federal Reserves will newly printed paper money say at the top , " Federal Debt Certificate"?  Is this our reality? Years ago I remember my grandmother having a fit about money. She ranted about the time when the government switched from " Silver Certificates" to "Federal Reserve Note".  Her story was the government gave citizens a deadline for exchanging their old silver certificates for the notes. She hotly contested this because one was a guarantee of value backed by silver, the other "just a damn lie". She defined this time as a government take over of private wealth and she hated those notes. She saved a bunch of silver cerificates and later in life, when her income was shrinking while expenses were increasing she took her silver certificates out of storage to cash then in at a bank. Where they told her they were expired and of no value any more. "Nonsensical!" she huffed, "this is guaranteed by the United States government and I want the full value of these from the date of issue". Her demands went unmet and her wrath at the government unrelenting.  Did I learn the lesson I should have learned from this oft told family story? Maybe. Or not.

What I am certain of is my inability to grasp the complexities of today's shifting monetary games. I am equally certain I should make the effort. So this morning I fired up the computer and set out to learn more. I read quite a bit, studied charts and graphs, visited the economic dictionary, etc. What I  learned is questionable. What I earned was a masive headache. I headed outdooors for an exercise cure .

Three hours later, at 100% personal humidity,  I headed indoors for a shower and some lunch. I turned on the flat screen for diversion and to my surprise rapidly became immersed in the story of Temple Grandin. It is a wonderful story.  The acting of both Clare Danes and Julia Ormand  were brilliant.  Temple is the daughter of a Harvard graduate who refused to have her then 4 year old daughter institutionalized for what was  called " Infantile Schizophrenia" and is now called "Autism". Temple has a PhD, teaches, writes, revolutionized an industry. She accomplished amazing things at amazing odds.

Watching this movie made me aware of how comfortable we get with the known, the perfected, the understood and how stressed we feel when we are outside that comfort. Like my research of things monetary this morning. But what if every aspect of life was outside your comfort zone? Even speaking or touching? And yet, isn't it astonishing what we ask of those who are " different but not less"?  Do we ask as much from those who are not different? Or ourselves? Not often.

So now I have said to myself, " Okay Fishy, let's say you are autistic about Math , Money, Economics. That you have spent your entire adult life being right brained which you have tried to balance by  purchasing left brain time or skills from others. Too bad, it is now time to go thru that door and learn what defeats you, learn that which busts your head with pain, learn to not be left brain lazy and to make the effort".

 Because it is about who wins and who loses and why.

Practicing "No"

Hello, is this Mrs. Fishy?

Yes

Mrs Fishy,  we are calling to inquire if you would like to donate your skills and talents to our church fundraiser again this year.

Actually no, I think it's time for others to take a turn .

Mrs. Fishy, we really do pray for guidance in our committees and it would be so very difficult to report back to the others our prayers are unanswered.

Perhaps you should revise your prayer.

I'm sorry, I am not certain I heard you correctly.

You probably did but I can be even more clear,
I will not be donating my time and talent . Please refrain  from attempting to guilt me into acceptance.
Peace be to you and good bye.


Fishy, it's me Melly, did you blow off Mrs. W about the fundraiser?

Hi Melly, haven't heard from you since last time you wanted something.

Fishy, this year our theme is  a Rio destination. Think of all the excitement generated by Carnivale. It will be a great theme for creative expression, I know you  don't want to miss this opportunity to shine and serve.

No, and I can hardly think of a less suitable subject for a church fundraiser than Carnivale.

Come on, you know we will just call you later in absolute desperation the last week and you will relent because of your good heart and then you will have missed the fun and just have  showed up for the stress.  Don't do it this way. Give of your time and talent as God intended you to do. It is in fighting God's will that we suffer.

Listen Melly, serve that dish  to someone else. We both know God's will and yours are not one and the same. Well, at least one of us does, you have always been a bit questionable.

 I, for one,  have learned to give myself over to God's will Fishy,  I urge you to find that path.

What you urge most in this world is your own bidding wrapped up in faux spirits.

Alright Fishy, if you are going to persist in being difficult I will be forced to go to our Pastor and ask him to pray for you.

He's already prays for me, I am part of his flock.

You certainly don't sound like a memeber of the flock. I mean if you were serious about being a true part of our flock you would not be getting these phone calls prodding you to do the right thing.

Melly, you can turn thaat cattle prod on yourself and leave me alone. Hope your day is a fine one, bye.

Fishy! for God's sake did you tell Melly and Mrs. W you would not help with the Rio fundraiser?

Yes

Unaccetable! I am putting you on my committee, we will be meeting next Tuesday.

I won't be there.

Nonsense!  You have a conscious and a fine soul. Time for you to give back some of that talent God gave you and I might add, with a bit more willing spirit would be a good thing.

How much is the bet?

Lunch at Lolly's

The good news is you still get to lunch at Lolly's, the bad news is you will be the one paying. I have to go now, but seriously could you tell the others I will not be volunteering this year and to stop calling me?

Why the devil are you so difficult  about this Fishy? Whatever  is getting your goat cast it aside woman!

Bye. Luck. Peace.

Blowfish and I were in the car when he said, "Fishy, look at this!"

In the car on our right was a young teen girl.
She looked 12 but must have been at least 15 to be in a car alone. What had gotten Blowfish's attention was her actions. She was agressively sucking her left thumb while texting with her right. I beeped the horn and when she looked up I smiled a gentle mothers smile, shook my head no while holding up my cell phone. Right. She flipped me off, which at least required the removal of her thumb from mouth.

Later that same day I was talking to Bob on the phone when he suddenly exclaimed, "God Almighty! " and went on to expound at length about how he was seeing the craziest driving ever since the first Model T rolled forth. Of course our conversation was taking place from our respective cell phones in our respective cars.

Yesterday's paper offered a front page photograph of a head on collision between a car and an oak tree. The oak won, the car was totaled . The driver, a 15 year old and her 17 year old girlfriend survived with non life threatening or life altering injuries. There was this quote from the investigating officer: " I don't know what these girls were doing before they ran into this tree. Whatever it was had their full attentions because there is not a single break mark. They drove head on itno this oak at 50 mph. "

That comment made me think of a driver the day before who nearly drove into me at 80 mph, on a bridge with no place to evade. I definitely left break marks on the road in a serious effort to give the driver passing illegally on a 2 lane road, on a bridge, room to clear the car he was passing without having a head to head encounter with the Fizz. I felt true hostility toward that other driver . I wondered what made his schedule more important than my life?

Last night, I witnessed 2 startling driving events in the span of less than a mile. One was a near miss, the other sideswiped a light pole and proceeded down the thankfully empty sidewalk for a block before returning to the roadway . Wow.

Of course it is easy to think of these issues as foolish or careless when we are threatened or observing or reading about them but what about when we are the ones making the poor choices? I got to thinking about this because of my July weekends.

On the first weekend I visited a friend in the mountains. When she was showing me around the region she drove way too fast on twisting, curving, riddled with blind spots, narrow mountain village roads. I demonstrated my concern by the death grips I placed on available handholds. That communique was largely ignored while my friend gaily chatted about the vistas flashing by too quickly to see anything other than a blur. The very next day we traveled the same path but this time in the Fizz with my foot on the accelerator. My new transport is called the Fizz for a reason and so I was really in the moment enjoying the performance characteristics with the top retracted and the seats air conditioned when my friend yelled, " Fishy! This is far too fast for this road." I smiled and dropped the mph by one as we aproached a sharp curve. A mile or so down the road my friend yelled, " You know I haven't asked anyone to pull over and let me out of the car since my niece was a teen but I think I'm there." I did slow down and mentioned I did not think we were traveling at any greater speed than the day before with her at the wheel. She rolled her eyes , disagreed and mentioned she knew the road well while I was a stranger to it's hidden risks. Point taken. "Comfort zones" are also "control zones" in that we feel in control and therefore comfortable with the risks of the situation when we are the driver and not when others are driving.

Last weekend Blowfish and I went to visit our beloved Mermaid. On Sunday morning following a leisurely breakfast Mermaid drove us in the Fizz out to the farm to see and feed horses. It was a beautiful day and once we turned off the main highway we were on a fine tree lined, narrow, country road with mostly farms on either side. It wasn't long before I felt anxiety at our rate of travel which was roughly double the posted speed limit. I was about to say something when Mermaid sang out,
" Wow Mom, the Fizz handles really well ."
" Yes, she does but slow down please."
" Why? I am completely within my comfort zone."
" Well you are completely outside my comfort zone so cool it"
" Mom, that's ridiculous, you drive this fast all the time."
" Okay. My bad, now back off the accelerator "

No comment and no slowing down happened.
Precisely as I had done with my friend the previous weekend.
Then from the back seat came this command from Blowfish,
" Now".
Immediately Mermaid decreased the mph to almost the posted rate.
I did give some thought to the differences in her response to her Dad vs her Mom.
It wasn't hard to figure. Blowfish drives the speed limit, rarely talks on a cell while in a vehicle, even as a passenger, and he doesn't text at all. He is a responsible, careful driver. He is right when he says it is unfair that he is the one with the most speeding tickets and the only one of us who has totaled a car. He is right, it is unfair.

I found myself hoping with every trip to the horsefarm Mermaid will hear her Dad's instruction and heed it. I pray she will not use my bad example as her excuse to ignore her Dad's advice. I also wondered how I could impart to her the importance of the current need to be more vigilant as a driver than ever before. That it is no longer prudent to assume the other drivers with whom you are sharing the road have an equal interest in their next breath. Or even an awareness of the risks they present to themselves or others. Or the vitaly important awareness of when we are the driver posing a risk to others. Or if where our "comfort zone" is also the "dead zone".

We did not make it home from Mermaid's in the time frame expected. We took a scenic route for the last third of the journey, in an area of the Smokey's with little cell phone reception. So Mermaid's calls to both parents went unanswered for a few hours. So she worried and then worried some more. When she did finally reach us her anxiety level was acute enough for her to yell, " You scared me!" I get that kiddo, I get that. So forgive me my tresspasses , drive prudently and know beyond any doubt you are loved.

Saturday images

Visual Haiku: Smoothies

He's a real smoothie!
Youth's sigh now a fruitful drink?
Changing appetites