May today be the start of a season of rebirth and renewal for you (and, if you’re into that sort of thing, lots of candy, too!).
Monthly Archives: March 2008
I have a lot of friends who need healing.
Some have suffered loss and sorrow and are trying to make new lives for themselves in ways they never expected they’d have to. They are mending their hearts and their spirits and are finding new paths to follow.
Some are in the midst of physical challenges and are doing what they can to heal their bodies and to rid them of disease and malfunction. They are searching for strength and good support, and they are learning to make changes in their routines and behaviors to encourage their treatment and recovery.
I hold every single one of them – of you – in my heart every day. I believe in prayer – vibing, meditation, positive thinking; whatever name you want to give it – and I devote a good part of my energy every day to sending it out. If you need it, open up and receive it. It is freely given and lovingly sent.
… oh, wait…
I managed an appointment with my doctor yesterday afternoon about this bump on my forehead. This not-so-obvious but enthusiastically painful bump on my forehead:
I had a lovely time with the nurse. She took my blood pressure (it was a little high for me 118 over 65), my pulse (80, I think, which is also high), and my temperature (again a little high at 99.4). We talked for a few minutes about what was going on with my head (am I growing an alien in there?!) and I mentioned that teaching yoga with this thing throbbing on my forehead was a drag – hanging upside down is really quite a treat, let me tell you – which got us talking about fitness classes and, somehow, about our kids. She was great.
The doc came in a minute or two later – I didn’t even get a chance to read my book – and shook my hand. He asked exactly three questions and sort of interrupted me with every answer, and he never quite looked me in the eye. He was nice enough, but I’m glad he’s not my primary care guy. Anyway, he got in for one close look, gently prodded the edges of the mass, then whipped out a referral sheet, all the while reassuring me that these things are “almost always benign” (it’s okay, Doc; I’m not a worrier. Besides, I’ve got a friend who’s spot wasn’t benign, so I’ve got some vicarious experience with such things). “I could take care of this right here if it were on your arm or your back or something,” he said, “but since it’s on your face, we want someone who’s better at scars than I am.”
Um, yeah; I’m so down with that.
I was given a referral to a plastic surgery outfit across the street from the hospital, which I called from the parking lot. I’ve got an appointment to be excised on Tuesday at 4:00 – unless the doctor decides she can’t do the job in the office, in which case I’ve got to wait for her next OR slot, which is the first of April. I was going to drive myself down and back – the lovely receptionist lady told me I’d be fine to drive – but Xena told me she was going to be my chauffeur. She’s had something like this done in the not-too-distant past and says that while she was technically okay to drive – the local didn’t interfere with her hand-eye coordination or her reaction time at all – she just didn’t feel like driving after the procedure, so she’s going to shuffle me back and forth. She loves me well.
I’ll post before and after pictures when I’ve got them.
Now I’m going to go swallow a handful of Advil and OM this headache away…
The calendar says it’s spring.
My tree, however, is not convinced, and neither am I….
Oh, how I wish my world looked more like this…
In other news, the health club called today to say that all fitness classes have been canceled for Sunday morning, which means I get to spend ALL of Easter with my family. This also means that the girls don’t have to wait until I get home to do their egg hunt. Knowing there are eggs hiding around the house and having to wait until almost 11 for Mommy to come home so she can watch them hunt is torturous to the poor babies. The delay, however, gives Daddy more time to think up and draw his clues, so I have to remind him to get on that sooner rather than later. I suppose I can’t make everyone happy, right?
May today be a new beginning for you; a breath of fresh air filled with the promise of renewal.
I’ve seen this meme all over – I was even credited for inspiring someone to do it already – so I figure it’s time. Ready? Here we go:
- Answer the questions below.
- Type your answers into Photobucket (author’s note – I found Photobucket to be uncooperative and fussy. I typed my answers into Google Images instead).
- Pick a picture from the results and post it as the answer.
1. What is your name?
2. How old will you be on your next birthday?
3. What is your occupation?
4. What is your relationship status?
5. What do you want to be when you grow up?
6. What do you love most in life?
7. What do you like to do in your spare time?
8. Who is your celebrity crush?
9. Favorite animal (does a bug count?):
10. Favorite color:
11. Favorite book:
12. Favorite type of shoe:
13. Favorite Disney character:
14. Biggest annoyance:
15. Where do you live?:
16. Biggest fear:
17. Bad habit:
18. What is your mood right now?
19. Describe yourself.
20. What is your favorite TV Show?
21. What do you drive?
22. What kind of pet do you have?
(times 4, by the way) credit
23. What is your favorite movie?
24. Who is your hero?
Mrs. Chili’s got a pretty busy day, folks. You’re getting my to-do list as a Ten Things Tuesday because that’s what’s foremost in my mind.
1. I’m taking my mom (as opposed to my biological) to the dentist to have some teeth removed. I’ve not written about it yet because I’m still processing it, but Mom was diagnosed with cancer a little less than a month ago. She’s had some trouble with some swelling in her throat, and someone had the sense to biopsy it and it came back bad – pharyngeal squamous cell. The treatments that she’ll have to have will kill part of her jaw bone, which means the bone won’t be able to support the teeth. Mom doesn’t drive (and even if she did, who’d want to drive themselves home after having three teeth removed?), so I’m taking her over to the hospital complex this morning.
2. I’ve got to put this semester to rest. I’ve got all the composition students’ final exams graded, now I just need to enter everything into my grade book and fill out all the end-of-term paperwork. I figure that waiting rooms are good places to get that sort of thing done.
3. Our insurance company decided not to pay for our eye exams last December. It turns out that we’re in an HMO, and my optometrist, whom I’ve been seeing for years (and yes, I intended that pun) is not on their approved list. I’ve been meaning to call them to give them my medical spending account card for weeks now, but I’ve never gotten around to it. I’m going to do that today.
4. I need to call the girls’ dentist and reschedule their appointment in May. I got classes next term – a fact for which I am quite grateful, actually – but one of them conflicts with the girls’ 6-month check-ups. There’s less urgency for this than for the optometrist – I don’t owe the dentist any money – but I figure I’ve got a better chance of actually getting the girls seen around the 6-month mark if I call sooner rather than later.
5. I must go to the grocery store. We’re almost out of milk, we’re completely out of bread, and I need to plan dinner for the rest of the week. Not for tonight, though; we’re going to a restaurant with my friend Laura and her fiance. Laura and I live in the same town, she works literally four buildings away from Mr. Chili, and I almost never see her. I hate that. I’m looking forward to spending some time with her tonight.
6. Laundry. Really; need I say more?
7. Vacuum. Again, do I really have to explain?
8. I should probably schedule an appointment with my doctor. My digestive system has been rumbling and gurgling for about a month now and I’ve got sort of a low-grade ick going on. Plus, I have a small cyst on my forehead that has changed character over the last week. I’m vibing for myself and I’m convinced that I’m making a difference, but I might need a little modern medical shove over the wellness line.
9. I need to get serious about getting my CV out into the world. I’ve put it in two colleges so far and have heard precisely nothing from either school. I’m hoping to meet Mr. Chili for lunch today, and I’m planning on bringing a copy of my credentials to L.U. to give to my former department head. I called him a few weeks ago and he said that it’s likely he can give me a few sections of Freshman English in the fall. I’m all over that. I’ve also got to investigate a couple of smaller community colleges in the area and get my CV out to them, too. I have a job at TCC through next term, but there are positively no guarantees after that. I’d like to have something new in place for at least September.
10. I want to write a letter and make some phone calls. I’ve not written to my grandmother in a while, so I’ll fire off a card to her. I’ve got a Capital-G Girlfriend whom I feel I’ve been neglecting (even though I’ve not been actually neglecting her – I’m just constantly amazed that weeks can go by before we get a chance to talk to each other), and I need to call my local grandparents and arrange to see them sometime in the next few days. We weren’t able to make our usual Friday visit last week, and I miss them.
That’s it! I hope you all have a safe, happy, and productive Tuesday!
Mrs. Chili senior is home again. She was released from the hospital sometime this early afternoon, according to a text I got from my husband while I watched my composition kids sweating it out over their final exams.
I haven’t been able to reach Mr. Chili yet to get the latest scoop; he was at his parents’ house, tidying up and making nice ahead of Mother’s return home, when they arrived from the hospital. He indicated in his text that he was going to make himself a sandwich and have lunch there as it didn’t look like my composition kids were going to finish in time for us to meet. I’m sure he’s got the story, but this is all I’ve got at the moment.
The fact that Mother is home, though, speaks well of her recovery. I imagine there are going to be medications and follow-up visits to doctors and specialists and travel limits and exercise routines and dietary restrictions and partridges in pear trees, none of which is going to make Mother a very happy girl. Still, better an unhappy girl than a dead one, a fact which I’m sure we’ll be pointing out to her several times over the next few months.
Thank you – all of you – for your prayers and support and good wishes. I believe, perhaps more than anything else, that good energy is never wasted, and I’m yet again humbled and filled with gratitude for the wonderful community I’ve built here.
Beanie turns nine today.
Nine! I can’t believe it.
Smart and funny, imaginative and playful, my younger daughter is truly a bright spot in the world. She is generous of heart and energetic of spirit, with a keen sense of empathy and an infectious giggle.
She loves her life. She finds wonder in some of the most unusual places, and notices things that others overlook.
She has a sublime sense of humor and seems equally comfortable playing Barbies with her sister as she does playing in the dirt with her cousins.
Bean can be forgetful and scatterbrained. She leaves her lunch box at school too often. She’ll go into her room to change for bed and still be in her clothes half an hour later because she’s allowed herself to pick up a book. She’s never, ever willfully mean, though, and does her best to be nine-year-old responsible.
She is often found sock-less, even on the chilliest of days. She twirls her hair when she’s sick, nervous, or overly tired. She still says “renember” instead of “remember”. She can’t tell a story and get dressed at the same time. Her knee-jerk answer to “what do you want for dinner” is almost always “macaroni and cheese.“
Beanie loves completely. She wants to include everyone, and feels deeply stung when she is left out. She’s a world-class snuggle buddy, and gives freely of her love and attention. I believe that her sensitivity is both her blessing and her curse.
Happy birthday, My Baby (who’s not such a baby anymore)! Every day, I’m glad you chose me to be your mom!
Dear Precious Daughter,
If you’re going to barge through a closed door into your parents’ bedroom on a Saturday morning, you’re just going to have to live with what you might see on the other side. Your parents still love each other very much, and you may want to consider being a bit more respectful of closed doors.
I don’t think we’ve laughed so hard in a long time!
photo credit (no, that’s not us, but that’s essentially the view she got!)