Dane has been put on the surgical schedule for Monday, February 9. We won't know what time he'll be going in until the day before.
They'll be doing much more aggressive surgery, going into the frontals and cleaning out cells to allow for drainage.
Dane's having very bad headaches still and we have to get him through another week of pain.
We could use prayer.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
One Word
My goddaughter's sister and dear friend tagged me with this on Facebook. I thought it was an interesting exercise and decided to repeat it here, although I can't tag 16 people. Anyone who reads this and would like to be tagged, go ahead and copy it.
USING ONLY ONE WORD! It's not as easy as you might think! Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on (to 16 others). It's really hard to only use one word answers. Be sure to tag the person you received it from!
1. Where is your cell phone? Purse
2. Occupation? Homemaker
3. Your hair? Straight
4. Your mother? Endearing
5. Your father? Amazing
6. Your favorite? Snuggling
7. Your dream last night? Unremembered
8. Your favorite drink? Wine
9. Your dream/goal? Grandmothering
10. What room you are in? Den
11. Your hobby? Soaps
12. Your fear? Others (This was the hardest one for me to put into a single word; by others, I mean people that I love experiencing pain. Did I just cheat?)
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Moved
14. Where were you last night? Meeting
15. Something that you aren't? Snooty
16. Muffins? Cranberry
Can you imagine me only giving one word answers? That was Don's dream last night!
USING ONLY ONE WORD! It's not as easy as you might think! Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on (to 16 others). It's really hard to only use one word answers. Be sure to tag the person you received it from!
1. Where is your cell phone? Purse
2. Occupation? Homemaker
3. Your hair? Straight
4. Your mother? Endearing
5. Your father? Amazing
6. Your favorite? Snuggling
7. Your dream last night? Unremembered
8. Your favorite drink? Wine
9. Your dream/goal? Grandmothering
10. What room you are in? Den
11. Your hobby? Soaps
12. Your fear? Others (This was the hardest one for me to put into a single word; by others, I mean people that I love experiencing pain. Did I just cheat?)
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Moved
14. Where were you last night? Meeting
15. Something that you aren't? Snooty
16. Muffins? Cranberry
Can you imagine me only giving one word answers? That was Don's dream last night!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Emotions are High
I don't know why I'm so emotional these days, but it seems to happen regularly. This morning, for instance, I'm worried about Dane and can't seem to stop crying. I'll get it together for a few minutes, then begin to think about him again and start to cry.
He feels terrible. I had him home all day yesterday, lying on the couch. I kept hot compresses on his head, just hoping they'd take away some of the pain. This morning, I heard voices and footsteps before my alarm went off. I heard Don leaving for work, then someone snuggled up against me on his side of the bed. I knew it was Dane.
When I moved to turn off the alarm, I rolled over facing him and put my arms around him.
"Mama, I hurt," he said, pushing his head against my body as if the warmth would somehow dissipate his pain.
"I know, hon," I told him. I DO know. That's how I felt this summer when they hospitalized me. I thought my head was exploding. "But I just don't know what to do." He's on antibiotics, steroids, I've been putting hot compresses on him and giving him Ibuprofen. The only other thing I could think of was adding a decongestant.
"Mama, would you call Dr. Harmon today and ask him if he can go ahead and operate. I just can't take this for another 2 months."
I think that's when it hit me. Thinking about Dane, so helpless, lying in my bed after his sinus surgery whimpering and saying, "I didn't know surgery would hurt so bad!" and, now, he hurts so badly he's asking to go through it again! I got very choked up.
I encouraged him to try and go to school. Focusing on something other than the pain may help him deal with it. He may not perform as well as usual, but a distraction can't be all bad. I dosed him up again before school with a decongestant, Tylenol, steroids, antibiotic, had him rinse his sinus' and put hot compresses on his head. I made sure he had my cell phone number in case he needed me. He can't spend the next two months at home with headaches. He's GOT to try and push through some.
But I did call the doctor and he has an appointment for tomorrow morning. I just hope Dr. Harmon has some answers and can offer some relief.
I'm going to go and have a good cry now.
He feels terrible. I had him home all day yesterday, lying on the couch. I kept hot compresses on his head, just hoping they'd take away some of the pain. This morning, I heard voices and footsteps before my alarm went off. I heard Don leaving for work, then someone snuggled up against me on his side of the bed. I knew it was Dane.
When I moved to turn off the alarm, I rolled over facing him and put my arms around him.
"Mama, I hurt," he said, pushing his head against my body as if the warmth would somehow dissipate his pain.
"I know, hon," I told him. I DO know. That's how I felt this summer when they hospitalized me. I thought my head was exploding. "But I just don't know what to do." He's on antibiotics, steroids, I've been putting hot compresses on him and giving him Ibuprofen. The only other thing I could think of was adding a decongestant.
"Mama, would you call Dr. Harmon today and ask him if he can go ahead and operate. I just can't take this for another 2 months."
I think that's when it hit me. Thinking about Dane, so helpless, lying in my bed after his sinus surgery whimpering and saying, "I didn't know surgery would hurt so bad!" and, now, he hurts so badly he's asking to go through it again! I got very choked up.
I encouraged him to try and go to school. Focusing on something other than the pain may help him deal with it. He may not perform as well as usual, but a distraction can't be all bad. I dosed him up again before school with a decongestant, Tylenol, steroids, antibiotic, had him rinse his sinus' and put hot compresses on his head. I made sure he had my cell phone number in case he needed me. He can't spend the next two months at home with headaches. He's GOT to try and push through some.
But I did call the doctor and he has an appointment for tomorrow morning. I just hope Dr. Harmon has some answers and can offer some relief.
I'm going to go and have a good cry now.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Dane's Condition
I don't believe I wrote about Dane's appointment with the ENT two weeks ago (has it been that long?) It was his 2 month post-op and time to do another CT Scan to see what's really going on in that little head.
Nuttin' but bad news. Dane is at least as socked in as he was before his surgery, maybe even worse. The doctor kept muttering, "I'm so disappointed. This is really disappointing." which doesn't exactly instill confidence in the patient.
The crux of the matter is this: the frontal sinus' are located in the forehead, just in front of the brain and separated from the brain by a thin, small bone. In children, the frontals are very small and there's always a danger of perforating the bone and allowing infection, etc. open access to the brain in an attempt to poke drain holes in the frontal sinus'. Huge danger. The ethmoids, which are on the sides of the nose just below the frontals are much easier to access and, in Dane, his two worst areas were the frontals and the ethmoids. Dr. Harmon was trying to very conservative, which pleased me immensely. After all, Dane's only 9 years old.
His final decision was to leave the frontals alone but to clear holes in the ethmoids, hoping that gravity would pull the mucous down from the frontals into the ethmoids once the ethmoids were no longer full of fluid. Turns out, the ethmoids have never drained and the frontals are seriously inflamed and FULL of puss. He showed me two pictures of Dane - one with him on his back, the other with him on his stomach. There was a thin layer of air at the top of the ethmoids and frontals. But since the body positioning changed from one picture to the next, he explained that the entire contents of both of those sinus' is fluid (puss) and is moving with Dane's body positioning. Bad news and news which the doctor found very upsetting.
Prognosis? Antibiotics, yet again, to try and clear up infection but, if he's not significantly better in two months, they'll have to operate again, going into the frontals this time. It seems they have to give the body 4 months inbetween surgeries to recover before they can go in again. That means we have two months for God to heal Dane.
After asking some friends to be praying, someone asked if the doctor has put him on steroids. The answer was no, but I thought it was a great idea. If the sinus' are inflamed and the swelling is covering the drain holes, perhaps some steroids with decrease the inflammation and allow the drain holes to reopen and give Dane some relief. I called Dr. Harmon's office and left a note asking his opinion.
I found out yesterday that the nurse had called me back on my cell phone, which was missing for a week and I finally found in the ashtray of the van, and told me that Dr. Harmon had agreed that we should try steroids and had phoned them into a nearby pharmacy. Meanwhile, Dane's head hurts so badly that he's home from school today trying to rest.
I've got to get that prescription for steroids filled today. He's almost done with the antibiotics and still feels crummy. When he first heard the news about the possibility of surgery, he got very shaken and was really mean for a couple of days as he dealt with it. This morning, he asked me to call Dr. Harmon. I asked him if he wanted to have more surgery.
"Mommy, if another operation will take away this pain, it's worth it," he said. It like to have broken my heart.
Please pray for my little boy. He's only nine and is suffering - not as badly as some children with liver disease or other terrible illnesses, but he's MINE and I feel his pain. And he's felt bad for such a long time and been through so much to feel better, with no improvement.
Pray that the steroids do the trick and his sinus' are able to drain and stay cleared up. Pray for an end to his headaches and stomach pain. And pray for grace for this boy to handle suffering and understand it from the eternal perspective.
Nuttin' but bad news. Dane is at least as socked in as he was before his surgery, maybe even worse. The doctor kept muttering, "I'm so disappointed. This is really disappointing." which doesn't exactly instill confidence in the patient.
The crux of the matter is this: the frontal sinus' are located in the forehead, just in front of the brain and separated from the brain by a thin, small bone. In children, the frontals are very small and there's always a danger of perforating the bone and allowing infection, etc. open access to the brain in an attempt to poke drain holes in the frontal sinus'. Huge danger. The ethmoids, which are on the sides of the nose just below the frontals are much easier to access and, in Dane, his two worst areas were the frontals and the ethmoids. Dr. Harmon was trying to very conservative, which pleased me immensely. After all, Dane's only 9 years old.
His final decision was to leave the frontals alone but to clear holes in the ethmoids, hoping that gravity would pull the mucous down from the frontals into the ethmoids once the ethmoids were no longer full of fluid. Turns out, the ethmoids have never drained and the frontals are seriously inflamed and FULL of puss. He showed me two pictures of Dane - one with him on his back, the other with him on his stomach. There was a thin layer of air at the top of the ethmoids and frontals. But since the body positioning changed from one picture to the next, he explained that the entire contents of both of those sinus' is fluid (puss) and is moving with Dane's body positioning. Bad news and news which the doctor found very upsetting.
Prognosis? Antibiotics, yet again, to try and clear up infection but, if he's not significantly better in two months, they'll have to operate again, going into the frontals this time. It seems they have to give the body 4 months inbetween surgeries to recover before they can go in again. That means we have two months for God to heal Dane.
After asking some friends to be praying, someone asked if the doctor has put him on steroids. The answer was no, but I thought it was a great idea. If the sinus' are inflamed and the swelling is covering the drain holes, perhaps some steroids with decrease the inflammation and allow the drain holes to reopen and give Dane some relief. I called Dr. Harmon's office and left a note asking his opinion.
I found out yesterday that the nurse had called me back on my cell phone, which was missing for a week and I finally found in the ashtray of the van, and told me that Dr. Harmon had agreed that we should try steroids and had phoned them into a nearby pharmacy. Meanwhile, Dane's head hurts so badly that he's home from school today trying to rest.
I've got to get that prescription for steroids filled today. He's almost done with the antibiotics and still feels crummy. When he first heard the news about the possibility of surgery, he got very shaken and was really mean for a couple of days as he dealt with it. This morning, he asked me to call Dr. Harmon. I asked him if he wanted to have more surgery.
"Mommy, if another operation will take away this pain, it's worth it," he said. It like to have broken my heart.
Please pray for my little boy. He's only nine and is suffering - not as badly as some children with liver disease or other terrible illnesses, but he's MINE and I feel his pain. And he's felt bad for such a long time and been through so much to feel better, with no improvement.
Pray that the steroids do the trick and his sinus' are able to drain and stay cleared up. Pray for an end to his headaches and stomach pain. And pray for grace for this boy to handle suffering and understand it from the eternal perspective.
Monday, January 26, 2009
P.S.
Oh, by the way, I took green beans, a new recipe cooked with sour cream, that were amazing. And I made "pink fluff" which is raspberry jello, cool whip, pineapple, cottage cheese, and pecans all mixed together. And Deanna wanted to make a cake to take, so it turned out to not be a big deal.
And the potluck on Sunday turned out to not be a potluck after all. I had my dates wrong.
Whew! Slid by on that one.
And the potluck on Sunday turned out to not be a potluck after all. I had my dates wrong.
Whew! Slid by on that one.
Decisions
We went to a Christmas Party Saturday night. A guy who was once Don's boss throws this party every year. When it first began, December was just too busy for them to be able to book a date, so they opted for a late-January get-together, instead. It stuck and they do this every year.
The Host invites everyone who works for him or ever has. You might think there'd be hundreds of people in attendance, but it seems he only has about 30 show each year. We've attended a couple of times. He smokes a turkey and a ham and everyone brings desserts and side dishes. Covered-dish functions can often be slim pickins', but not at this one. We ate our fill and brought home almost as much as we took.
I know very few people at this party. Actually, Don doesn't even know a lot of them. We were sitting across the table from a very nice couple who were very friendly. After visiting for 1/2 hour or so, the woman asked me Don's name. I told her and she remarked that she should have put two and two together, that she knew the name but just didn't put the face with it.
Somewhere in the conversation, we talked about our short stint in England. She asked me and the children some questions, like if we liked it, what the weather was like, was it a difficult adjustment . . . Then she asked me if we would be going back sometime.
"Don's been back two or three other times," I told her, "but he no longer works for that company anymore, so there's no chance we'll be returning."
"What do you mean he doesn't work for that company any longer?" she asked. "Isn't he with WGI?"
WGI is Washington Group International, the company that had the contract on the Nuclear Plant/DOE facility where Don works and that sent us to England. Last year, they lost the Contract when it came up for bid and Don now works for a new contractor.
"No, not anymore," I explained.
"When the contractor came in, he didn't go with WGI?" she asked.
"No," I responded again. "He stayed at the Plant."
She asked me the same question about six different ways. I think I finally was able to make it clear to her that Don stayed with the facility which now has a new contractor, thus he has a new employer. She seemed very surprised.
"Almost ALL of us have left the Plant and went to work for WGI," she said. Now it was my turn to be very surprised.
Don spent the latter part of last year praying about his job situation - whether or not to stay with the new contractor or look for employment elsewhere. He decided to stay. The transition to new contractor has not been seamless or easy, but Don is a steady guy and he just keeps pushing through, day after day. I had no opinion and prayed very hard for him that the Lord would speak clearly and that he would have the courage to do what he thought God wanted for our family. When he told me he had decided to stay, I was relieved that the decision had been made.
Since he made his decision, I've been struck several times by the thought of how unpredictable employment is these days, especially in this Recession. We're thankful Don has a job, and a good job, at that. And he has years and years of seniority, which must count for something. Lots of people, including his boss and the previous boss who was hosting this party, left the facility during the transition to new contractor, not wanting to weather this type of change yet again. Don held fast, despite difficulties, and I have to believe God gave him the grace to be able to get through for a reason.
Still, to hear that so many other folks went with WGI and know that Don's decision means no more England takes me aback a little. I trust that my husband heard the Lord and I was worried about him leaving and going with WGI anyway, afraid it might mean he would be taking extended trips to England and we wouldn't be able to go most of the time. I didn't want to be separated from him and almost breathed a sigh of relief when he decided to stay where he's at.
As for now, I think I just better be thankful he has a good job that provides well for our needs and support him as much as I possibly can. And who knows what the future will hold for the Doughty family. Maybe the new contractor will ask him to go to France or Africa or Australia.
One thing I've learned over my 47 years - life's an adventure, especially if you walk with the Lord. It's never dull or boring, always busy, hectic, and with many challenges. And lots and lots of rewards.
Most of them far from monetary.
The Host invites everyone who works for him or ever has. You might think there'd be hundreds of people in attendance, but it seems he only has about 30 show each year. We've attended a couple of times. He smokes a turkey and a ham and everyone brings desserts and side dishes. Covered-dish functions can often be slim pickins', but not at this one. We ate our fill and brought home almost as much as we took.
I know very few people at this party. Actually, Don doesn't even know a lot of them. We were sitting across the table from a very nice couple who were very friendly. After visiting for 1/2 hour or so, the woman asked me Don's name. I told her and she remarked that she should have put two and two together, that she knew the name but just didn't put the face with it.
Somewhere in the conversation, we talked about our short stint in England. She asked me and the children some questions, like if we liked it, what the weather was like, was it a difficult adjustment . . . Then she asked me if we would be going back sometime.
"Don's been back two or three other times," I told her, "but he no longer works for that company anymore, so there's no chance we'll be returning."
"What do you mean he doesn't work for that company any longer?" she asked. "Isn't he with WGI?"
WGI is Washington Group International, the company that had the contract on the Nuclear Plant/DOE facility where Don works and that sent us to England. Last year, they lost the Contract when it came up for bid and Don now works for a new contractor.
"No, not anymore," I explained.
"When the contractor came in, he didn't go with WGI?" she asked.
"No," I responded again. "He stayed at the Plant."
She asked me the same question about six different ways. I think I finally was able to make it clear to her that Don stayed with the facility which now has a new contractor, thus he has a new employer. She seemed very surprised.
"Almost ALL of us have left the Plant and went to work for WGI," she said. Now it was my turn to be very surprised.
Don spent the latter part of last year praying about his job situation - whether or not to stay with the new contractor or look for employment elsewhere. He decided to stay. The transition to new contractor has not been seamless or easy, but Don is a steady guy and he just keeps pushing through, day after day. I had no opinion and prayed very hard for him that the Lord would speak clearly and that he would have the courage to do what he thought God wanted for our family. When he told me he had decided to stay, I was relieved that the decision had been made.
Since he made his decision, I've been struck several times by the thought of how unpredictable employment is these days, especially in this Recession. We're thankful Don has a job, and a good job, at that. And he has years and years of seniority, which must count for something. Lots of people, including his boss and the previous boss who was hosting this party, left the facility during the transition to new contractor, not wanting to weather this type of change yet again. Don held fast, despite difficulties, and I have to believe God gave him the grace to be able to get through for a reason.
Still, to hear that so many other folks went with WGI and know that Don's decision means no more England takes me aback a little. I trust that my husband heard the Lord and I was worried about him leaving and going with WGI anyway, afraid it might mean he would be taking extended trips to England and we wouldn't be able to go most of the time. I didn't want to be separated from him and almost breathed a sigh of relief when he decided to stay where he's at.
As for now, I think I just better be thankful he has a good job that provides well for our needs and support him as much as I possibly can. And who knows what the future will hold for the Doughty family. Maybe the new contractor will ask him to go to France or Africa or Australia.
One thing I've learned over my 47 years - life's an adventure, especially if you walk with the Lord. It's never dull or boring, always busy, hectic, and with many challenges. And lots and lots of rewards.
Most of them far from monetary.
Friday, January 23, 2009
The Potluck Dilemna
Why is it that I can cook a meal for another family practically any day of the week with no stress or sweat. . . I just double up the recipe of whatever I'm making for us and - voila - instant meal to share (well, maybe not INSTANT)!
. . . but, trying to think through what to take to a Potluck completely paralyzes me. Meals for other families are easy. Like I said, I send over whatever we're eating. But POTLUCKS! You have to consider looks. It needs to look appetizing and attractive. You need to consider how difficult it is to serve. You need to consider how many people will be fed. You want to make sure that it's a one-dish meal if meat isn't being served separately or, if meat IS, then what vegetable isn't too overdone at these things and still has wide appeal. When I take someone a meal, I can do rice or pasta with something to go over it. But you can't do that at a Potluck. The pasta or rice always gets separated on the table from the topping and people can never figure out what to do with it if they can even figure out what it is.
Sometimes, we'll go to a Potluck where they designate "finger foods only" because they don't intend to have plasticware! Oh, my gosh! Fingerfoods? That limits me even further.
In any case, guess what's on the schedule for this weekend? Not one, but two, potlucks. I'm going to be a basket case by Monday. Anybody out there want to trade a homecooked meal for your family for potluck foods?
. . . but, trying to think through what to take to a Potluck completely paralyzes me. Meals for other families are easy. Like I said, I send over whatever we're eating. But POTLUCKS! You have to consider looks. It needs to look appetizing and attractive. You need to consider how difficult it is to serve. You need to consider how many people will be fed. You want to make sure that it's a one-dish meal if meat isn't being served separately or, if meat IS, then what vegetable isn't too overdone at these things and still has wide appeal. When I take someone a meal, I can do rice or pasta with something to go over it. But you can't do that at a Potluck. The pasta or rice always gets separated on the table from the topping and people can never figure out what to do with it if they can even figure out what it is.
Sometimes, we'll go to a Potluck where they designate "finger foods only" because they don't intend to have plasticware! Oh, my gosh! Fingerfoods? That limits me even further.
In any case, guess what's on the schedule for this weekend? Not one, but two, potlucks. I'm going to be a basket case by Monday. Anybody out there want to trade a homecooked meal for your family for potluck foods?
Tongue-tied
I've had this cold for almost 2 weeks now. Last weekend, when I was at the worst of it, I called my doctor's office hoping to get antibiotics for the sinus infection. He was gone for the day and they were happy to make me an appointment for the next morning with one of the Associates, but I really needed to start antibiotics THEN! I found some that Don had never finished up, looked them up online to be sure they were what I thought, and then began taking his. The prescription was one my ENT has used for me before for sinus infections and these had been prescribed by Don's ENT, who's in the same practice. So, even though I know better than to take someone else's prescription meds, I decided this was an emergency and I was going to try them.
They helped and I survived the weekend. Without them, I'm certain I would've been in the Emergency Room. Anyway, I've continued to take them and am continuing to improve. But I'm tired and run-down and never can quite seem to fit enough sleep into our busy schedule.
I was going to a prayer meeting last night while Don stayed home with the boys. Deanna was already there, at a bakesale, and my parents were supposed to be saving us seats. By the time Don got home, the meeting had already started and I was just tucking the boys in. Don and I went into the kitchen so we could exchange a few hurried sentences before I ran out the door. One of those sentences was a comment about how tired I was.
"Maybe if I take an Ambien right now," I reasoned outloud, "it'll kick in about the time I get home and I can go on to bed." The meeting only lasts 1 1/4 hours and I was almost 1/2 hour late already, so I really only needed to get through 45 minutes. Plus, since I've been taking Ambien on a semi-regular basis (every 3 months or so), I've found that they take a little longer to kick in.
"Yeah," Don responded. "Or maybe it'll kick in while you're driving home."
I decided to risk it. Wow! This Post really makes me seem like an unstable person - using someone else's antibiotics, taking an Ambien before going out!
Anyway, I was fine through the whole prayer meeting. At the end, I sent Deanna out to work the bakesale. When I caught up with her outside, there were still many more things left to be bought and the girls were hovering. I waited for awhile and visited with friends, then began to realize that my Ambien was about to begin working.
"Ask if you can leave, honey. We need to get home," I prompted Deanna. She got permission and we headed for my car, bumping into some good friends along the way.
We got into a discussion about the North Star and I asked my friends husband, who's an extremely well-educated man and knows everything about everything, what the name of the North Star was.
"I have NO idea," he responded. Unable to believe he didn't know (did I mention he knows EVERYTHING?), I commented, "I beg to differ," however, the words actually came out,
"I bare to digger." I knew something sounded wrong, so I glanced at Deanna.
"I bare to digger, MOM?" she raised her voice along with her eyebrows. I'm not sure which tickled me more - the fact that I couldn't quite place what I had said wrong or Deanna's reaction.
We piled in the car and headed home. Deanna quizzed me about my driving ability. I was clear-headed and had no difficulty staying in the center of my lane. There were no other cars anywhere around me and we only had to drive 3 blocks.
Deanna started discussing a situation at school, something that had happened with one of the other girls.
"She bares to digger," I explained to Deanna.
"MOMMY," she screamed before breaking into peals of laughter. However, that's become our new catch phrase around here.
Anyone bare to digger with us?
They helped and I survived the weekend. Without them, I'm certain I would've been in the Emergency Room. Anyway, I've continued to take them and am continuing to improve. But I'm tired and run-down and never can quite seem to fit enough sleep into our busy schedule.
I was going to a prayer meeting last night while Don stayed home with the boys. Deanna was already there, at a bakesale, and my parents were supposed to be saving us seats. By the time Don got home, the meeting had already started and I was just tucking the boys in. Don and I went into the kitchen so we could exchange a few hurried sentences before I ran out the door. One of those sentences was a comment about how tired I was.
"Maybe if I take an Ambien right now," I reasoned outloud, "it'll kick in about the time I get home and I can go on to bed." The meeting only lasts 1 1/4 hours and I was almost 1/2 hour late already, so I really only needed to get through 45 minutes. Plus, since I've been taking Ambien on a semi-regular basis (every 3 months or so), I've found that they take a little longer to kick in.
"Yeah," Don responded. "Or maybe it'll kick in while you're driving home."
I decided to risk it. Wow! This Post really makes me seem like an unstable person - using someone else's antibiotics, taking an Ambien before going out!
Anyway, I was fine through the whole prayer meeting. At the end, I sent Deanna out to work the bakesale. When I caught up with her outside, there were still many more things left to be bought and the girls were hovering. I waited for awhile and visited with friends, then began to realize that my Ambien was about to begin working.
"Ask if you can leave, honey. We need to get home," I prompted Deanna. She got permission and we headed for my car, bumping into some good friends along the way.
We got into a discussion about the North Star and I asked my friends husband, who's an extremely well-educated man and knows everything about everything, what the name of the North Star was.
"I have NO idea," he responded. Unable to believe he didn't know (did I mention he knows EVERYTHING?), I commented, "I beg to differ," however, the words actually came out,
"I bare to digger." I knew something sounded wrong, so I glanced at Deanna.
"I bare to digger, MOM?" she raised her voice along with her eyebrows. I'm not sure which tickled me more - the fact that I couldn't quite place what I had said wrong or Deanna's reaction.
We piled in the car and headed home. Deanna quizzed me about my driving ability. I was clear-headed and had no difficulty staying in the center of my lane. There were no other cars anywhere around me and we only had to drive 3 blocks.
Deanna started discussing a situation at school, something that had happened with one of the other girls.
"She bares to digger," I explained to Deanna.
"MOMMY," she screamed before breaking into peals of laughter. However, that's become our new catch phrase around here.
Anyone bare to digger with us?
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Time to Cut Down
Don and I made a decision to cut back financially in 2009. We held a Capital Campaign in our church towards the end of 2008 and all members were asked to make a sacrificial commitment to the Building Fund. In order to make our sacrificial commitment, we're going to have to tighten up.
Truthfully, this is very timely. With the economy on its way down the tubes, I can't think of a better time to begin practices that will, hopefully, pad our pocketbook a little more. I decided that the two areas in which I can most impact our budget are eating out and groceries, so I'm tackling those areas.
Years ago, Don and I were much more careful about our grocery shopping. However, when you can afford to buy what you need without worry, it becomes very easy to take the shortcut of ready-made foods instead of investing the time in making them yourself. I hadn't realized just how many things I buy off the shelf until the beginning of January.
Over the last two weeks, I've made homemade Chex Mix (3 kinds, in fact: one spicy, one Ranch-style, and one sweet), pizzas (with store-bought crusts and sauce - I'm not yet ready to tackle my own sauce and crusts, but it's coming), bread, syrup, rice krispie squares, and beef jerky. I made a trip to a Wholesale Club and bought large quantities of bacon bits for grits and soups, pepperoni (which I then divided into small baggies), bouillon cubes, vanilla, and several meats. I inventoried our freezer to identify what meats I had in the recesses that needed to be used, I've begun using up canned goods and am now ready to tackle the "snack" shelf.
When making out our grocery list last week, I remembered something we used to do when first married. Don likes to do the grocery shopping, but when I'm not doing it, it's a little difficult to manage costs. So, next to each item on the list, I would put a dollar amount. I'd add up the costs, throw in ten dollars or so for items that he may need but didn't make the list or for "specials" that are on sale and should be purchased even though not on the list, and I would write this amount on the top of the grocery list and circle it. That is our target cost. We should keep the bill at or below that number.
I tried it again last week. Even though I was pretty low on two items ($2 each), I was also over on almost every other item, so we came out almost dead on - no excessive over-buying (although Don DID come home with a box of doughnuts for Sunday morning's breakfast, something he almost always buys as a treat for the children and a break for me which never makes the list). I was very pleased.
I realize it's only the middle of January, but I think we're off to a great start. My plan is to freeze left-overs after labeling to be used for another meal instead of letting them sit in the fridge until they have to be thrown out. It's going to mean a lot more time and attention to the refridgerator and freezer and a lot more time spent in the kitchen, but I'm excited about re-learning to be resourceful.
I figure we should be able to recognize the impact by the end of April. And with all the effort I've made so far, it should be a significant impact.
Now it's time to begin addressing the "eating out" portion of the budget. Don HATES to eat out. Normally, it's me having lunch out with friends or grabbing a quick fast-food dinner with the children between Deanna's basketball game and choir practice. I'm not carrying all my gift cards with me in my purse so they can be used at various restaurants when necessary. I need to find a better way to keep restaurant coupons accessible when I need them. I haven't quite figured that out yet, but I'm working on it.
In any case, there's lots going on in the Doughty house - most of it in the kitchen. But the children are enjoying the fruits of my labor (the jerky is AWESOME) and I feel good about my efforts to cut back.
Truthfully, this is very timely. With the economy on its way down the tubes, I can't think of a better time to begin practices that will, hopefully, pad our pocketbook a little more. I decided that the two areas in which I can most impact our budget are eating out and groceries, so I'm tackling those areas.
Years ago, Don and I were much more careful about our grocery shopping. However, when you can afford to buy what you need without worry, it becomes very easy to take the shortcut of ready-made foods instead of investing the time in making them yourself. I hadn't realized just how many things I buy off the shelf until the beginning of January.
Over the last two weeks, I've made homemade Chex Mix (3 kinds, in fact: one spicy, one Ranch-style, and one sweet), pizzas (with store-bought crusts and sauce - I'm not yet ready to tackle my own sauce and crusts, but it's coming), bread, syrup, rice krispie squares, and beef jerky. I made a trip to a Wholesale Club and bought large quantities of bacon bits for grits and soups, pepperoni (which I then divided into small baggies), bouillon cubes, vanilla, and several meats. I inventoried our freezer to identify what meats I had in the recesses that needed to be used, I've begun using up canned goods and am now ready to tackle the "snack" shelf.
When making out our grocery list last week, I remembered something we used to do when first married. Don likes to do the grocery shopping, but when I'm not doing it, it's a little difficult to manage costs. So, next to each item on the list, I would put a dollar amount. I'd add up the costs, throw in ten dollars or so for items that he may need but didn't make the list or for "specials" that are on sale and should be purchased even though not on the list, and I would write this amount on the top of the grocery list and circle it. That is our target cost. We should keep the bill at or below that number.
I tried it again last week. Even though I was pretty low on two items ($2 each), I was also over on almost every other item, so we came out almost dead on - no excessive over-buying (although Don DID come home with a box of doughnuts for Sunday morning's breakfast, something he almost always buys as a treat for the children and a break for me which never makes the list). I was very pleased.
I realize it's only the middle of January, but I think we're off to a great start. My plan is to freeze left-overs after labeling to be used for another meal instead of letting them sit in the fridge until they have to be thrown out. It's going to mean a lot more time and attention to the refridgerator and freezer and a lot more time spent in the kitchen, but I'm excited about re-learning to be resourceful.
I figure we should be able to recognize the impact by the end of April. And with all the effort I've made so far, it should be a significant impact.
Now it's time to begin addressing the "eating out" portion of the budget. Don HATES to eat out. Normally, it's me having lunch out with friends or grabbing a quick fast-food dinner with the children between Deanna's basketball game and choir practice. I'm not carrying all my gift cards with me in my purse so they can be used at various restaurants when necessary. I need to find a better way to keep restaurant coupons accessible when I need them. I haven't quite figured that out yet, but I'm working on it.
In any case, there's lots going on in the Doughty house - most of it in the kitchen. But the children are enjoying the fruits of my labor (the jerky is AWESOME) and I feel good about my efforts to cut back.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Ponderings
I've always been fascinated by Drama. In high school, I was just too busy to participate in any of the plays we produced. In college, I was even busier, working a part-time job off campus and as a work-study student on campus. I was active in Student Government, worked on the Annual Staff, and was on the Dean's List and in the Honor Society. All of that took a huge amount of time. I promised myself that I would try out for a play before I graduated, but continued to put it off - just too many other things competing for my time.
My last quarter in college, I was reminded of my promise by a friend. I quickly checked into the production that our school was performing that quarter - Henry IV, a Shakespearean historical play with only 3 female characters, one whose part consists of a single spoken line in Welsh and a Welsh song. Ugh! To complicate matters a little more, a professional Shakespearean actor was taking a leave from his Troup to teach an drama course at my school and star in that quarter's production. We had another "Visiting Professor" from Glasgow, Scotland who was a Scholar in Jacobian Drama and would also be teaching and starring in the play.
Try-outs extended over two nights. I went to the first night and told our drama teacher (whose class I had taken) and the primary director that I was just going to observe. All interested parties were given a copy of the script and different scenes were chosen. Each student tried out reading with the professional actor. There was about a page's worth of script in the middle of a scene that was being used for the women. After observing for an hour and a half, I decided I could do better than most of the women who were vying for the roles. I timidly (TRUE!) asked if I could take a stab at it.
Before I even realized what was happening, I was chasing the Shakespearean actor (whose name was Barry Kraft) around the room, wagging my finger at him. Instead of just reading, we instinctively began acting. Working with a professional was unbelievable. It was so easy. He played off my every emotion and bent to compliment whatever tone I took. I had never experienced anything so exhilarating. When we reached the end of the scene, we both stopped, looked at our script, and realized that we had acted out pages, not stopping or being stopped at the end of the excerpt being used for try-outs. We had acted out the whole scene.
I was quite embarrassed. The director hadn't stopped us and I was so caught up in the role and playing off this REAL actor that we just kept going.
Anyway, I got one of the two women's roles (I'm not counting the Welsh singer's part) and the director decided to take advantage of the expertise available that quarter and form a triumverate. He, the professional, and the Jacobean drama expert jointly were going to direct the play.
The three directors encouraged all the students chosen for different roles to research their characters and base their portrayal on their own interpretation after study. Henry V completes the story began in Henry IV and most of the characters carry over to the next play. I began study everything I could get my hands on relating to Lady Percy, including some articles written by T.F. (Fred) Wharton, the expert in Jacobean Drama who played King Henry.
I would show up for rehearsal, pondering the newest light I had uncovered on Lady Percy. Each day, her personality would change depending on the new slant I had learned. One day, she was petulant. Another, innocent and sweet. Yet another, calculating and shrewd. Still another, simple and kind, yet mature and wise beyond her years. By about the third week of rehearsals, Lady Percy had been through many different renditions.
By the fourth week of rehearsals, the Triumverate asked for a meeting with me.
"Patti, we love that you've taken our advice about developing your character so 'to heart'," they started, "but we're beginning to struggle. We never know from day to day who Lady Percy will be. It's impossible for us to rehearse when the role is changing daily."
Point well-made. In other words, pick an idea, make a decision who I believed Lady Percy to be, and stick to it. Play the part consistently.
I did, and had a wonderful time doing it. The play was one of the highlights of my college years.
This morning at breakfast, Dane began telling Deanna about a play that he must be studying in school. I listened for a moment, then exclaimed,
"That's Hamlet!"
"YEAH!" Dane yelled. Apparently, he couldn't remember the name, just the Plot.
We talked in great length about Hamlet's predicament. Then we began to discuss the in's and out's of the play, those concepts that are played differently by each actor who takes on this part. Was Hamlet trying to protect Ophelia by exclaiming, "Get thee to a Nunnery!" or was he protecting himself from the distraction Ophelia presented to him. And what about his relationship with this mother? Was it incestuous, as some actors have implied, or was he simply making a point that she was committing incest by marrying her dead husband's brother. And was Hamlet really going insane or was he simply pretending to "catch a thief", as it were?
As I posed and pondered these questions aloud between flipping pancakes in the pan, I glanced over at the table. The children were staring at me, wide-eyed and with mouths gaping.
Maybe that was a little too deep for ages 12 and under on a Tuesday morning before school.
That's me - Deep Mommy!
My last quarter in college, I was reminded of my promise by a friend. I quickly checked into the production that our school was performing that quarter - Henry IV, a Shakespearean historical play with only 3 female characters, one whose part consists of a single spoken line in Welsh and a Welsh song. Ugh! To complicate matters a little more, a professional Shakespearean actor was taking a leave from his Troup to teach an drama course at my school and star in that quarter's production. We had another "Visiting Professor" from Glasgow, Scotland who was a Scholar in Jacobian Drama and would also be teaching and starring in the play.
Try-outs extended over two nights. I went to the first night and told our drama teacher (whose class I had taken) and the primary director that I was just going to observe. All interested parties were given a copy of the script and different scenes were chosen. Each student tried out reading with the professional actor. There was about a page's worth of script in the middle of a scene that was being used for the women. After observing for an hour and a half, I decided I could do better than most of the women who were vying for the roles. I timidly (TRUE!) asked if I could take a stab at it.
Before I even realized what was happening, I was chasing the Shakespearean actor (whose name was Barry Kraft) around the room, wagging my finger at him. Instead of just reading, we instinctively began acting. Working with a professional was unbelievable. It was so easy. He played off my every emotion and bent to compliment whatever tone I took. I had never experienced anything so exhilarating. When we reached the end of the scene, we both stopped, looked at our script, and realized that we had acted out pages, not stopping or being stopped at the end of the excerpt being used for try-outs. We had acted out the whole scene.
I was quite embarrassed. The director hadn't stopped us and I was so caught up in the role and playing off this REAL actor that we just kept going.
Anyway, I got one of the two women's roles (I'm not counting the Welsh singer's part) and the director decided to take advantage of the expertise available that quarter and form a triumverate. He, the professional, and the Jacobean drama expert jointly were going to direct the play.
The three directors encouraged all the students chosen for different roles to research their characters and base their portrayal on their own interpretation after study. Henry V completes the story began in Henry IV and most of the characters carry over to the next play. I began study everything I could get my hands on relating to Lady Percy, including some articles written by T.F. (Fred) Wharton, the expert in Jacobean Drama who played King Henry.
I would show up for rehearsal, pondering the newest light I had uncovered on Lady Percy. Each day, her personality would change depending on the new slant I had learned. One day, she was petulant. Another, innocent and sweet. Yet another, calculating and shrewd. Still another, simple and kind, yet mature and wise beyond her years. By about the third week of rehearsals, Lady Percy had been through many different renditions.
By the fourth week of rehearsals, the Triumverate asked for a meeting with me.
"Patti, we love that you've taken our advice about developing your character so 'to heart'," they started, "but we're beginning to struggle. We never know from day to day who Lady Percy will be. It's impossible for us to rehearse when the role is changing daily."
Point well-made. In other words, pick an idea, make a decision who I believed Lady Percy to be, and stick to it. Play the part consistently.
I did, and had a wonderful time doing it. The play was one of the highlights of my college years.
This morning at breakfast, Dane began telling Deanna about a play that he must be studying in school. I listened for a moment, then exclaimed,
"That's Hamlet!"
"YEAH!" Dane yelled. Apparently, he couldn't remember the name, just the Plot.
We talked in great length about Hamlet's predicament. Then we began to discuss the in's and out's of the play, those concepts that are played differently by each actor who takes on this part. Was Hamlet trying to protect Ophelia by exclaiming, "Get thee to a Nunnery!" or was he protecting himself from the distraction Ophelia presented to him. And what about his relationship with this mother? Was it incestuous, as some actors have implied, or was he simply making a point that she was committing incest by marrying her dead husband's brother. And was Hamlet really going insane or was he simply pretending to "catch a thief", as it were?
As I posed and pondered these questions aloud between flipping pancakes in the pan, I glanced over at the table. The children were staring at me, wide-eyed and with mouths gaping.
Maybe that was a little too deep for ages 12 and under on a Tuesday morning before school.
That's me - Deep Mommy!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Updated, sort of
I decided it was time for a change. While I loved the classic look of the black background, it was a little somber. I'm trying something new on for size - don't yet know if I'll stick with it. The squares at the top look a little like mercy drops, at least if you squint your eyes a little to fuzz up the corners.
I used this same picture for my Profile pix on Facebook. I've gotten several comments that people love the haircut. Sorry to say, I didn't cut my hair. It's an old picture, from my nephew's wedding in California almost six years ago. I love the picture, but hated the cut, which is why my hair is much longer now.
Although, I've been toying with cutting it short again and even talked with my Stylist about it.
I used this same picture for my Profile pix on Facebook. I've gotten several comments that people love the haircut. Sorry to say, I didn't cut my hair. It's an old picture, from my nephew's wedding in California almost six years ago. I love the picture, but hated the cut, which is why my hair is much longer now.
Although, I've been toying with cutting it short again and even talked with my Stylist about it.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Why We Don't Need Cable
When Don and I had Deanna, we decided we would never need cable T.V. The children were entertainment enough. This certainly has born out to be true.
Daelyn is the one who always tells Grandma and Grandpa interesting things that they can't wait to pass along. Like the "twisted ham" and the time he told them that we had all left and gone to DisneyWorld without him.
Dane is humorous in his lack of response. He gets this dull, glassy stare on his face and you're never completely certain if he even heard you. Deanna bought one of her cousins, who graduated from college last December and moved to Atlanta to take a job with an International Banking/Investment company, a talking picture frame for Christmas. It was quite expensive and she used her own money. Before we wrapped it, we took off the packaging and I prepared the children who recorded a Christmas greeting to Bradley. I pushed the button, then pointed at Deanna. Quickly, and in her sweetest youngest female cousin voice, she said, "Merry Christmas, Bradley. We love you." Next, I pointed at Daelyn. "Merry Christmas, Brad." Then, to Dane.
"Merry? . . . " Long pause before we all broke out in laughter. Is it really that difficult to remember the words "Merry Christmas'? It sounded like he was asking Bradley if he was, indeed, merry. After a long, hard laugh, we retaped and, this time, Dane came through. I told Bradley about it when I called on Christmas Day from West Virginia and he told me I should've left the first greeting on the picture frame.
"It's Classic Dane," he said. Yup! That's my boy. Bradley understand him well because they're similar. But Dane is also extremely intelligent and, we've discovered, notices everything. He just stores it all in that sharp little brain of his for use at a later time, like when he announced to our family, at the ripe old age of 4 or so, that one of the neighbors down the street used a different air conditioning company than us. When we finally got down to the bottom of how he had figured that out, he said,
"I saw them carrying in the condenser yesterday." At 4. Most 4-yr. olds don't even know that word, let alone know the piece of equipment well enough to recognize it.
Deanna is my child that entertains us with her faux pas. She is forever using a word incorrectly in a hilarious way. While she, too, is very intelligent, she tends to talk before her brain engages, thus she says CRAZY things! Like the time we were at the Boshears Memorial Fly-in and they featured a boy flying his remote control airplane that he had built himself. He's known for his remote control aerobatics and has won several international medals. Deanna had the camera poised for the fly-by. When I asked her why, she said she wanted to get a good shot of the guy in the cockpit. After we laughed uproariously, we tried to explain to her what a remote control plane meant. She understood, she just couldn't seem to get the idea out of her mind that there was someone inside the plane at the controls.
Last night, while eating dinner, the children began asking questions about my Synchronized Swimming experience. I was fortunate enough to be able to swim with a local team in my teens that competed in the Nationals. The kids asked about our routine and I explained that our routine was about mermaids and the entire thing was done underwater. It was very important that we not break the surface of the water and create ripples that would keep the judges from being able to see the routine at the bottom of the pool.
"So, the judges were ABOVE the water?" Deanna asked.
"No, honey. They all had on swimsuits and were sitting cross-legged on the bottom of the pool making notes."
"I did it again, didn't I, Mommy?" she asked. Yes, dear.
But not to worry, Deanna. We rely on you - no cable T.V. yet.
Daelyn is the one who always tells Grandma and Grandpa interesting things that they can't wait to pass along. Like the "twisted ham" and the time he told them that we had all left and gone to DisneyWorld without him.
Dane is humorous in his lack of response. He gets this dull, glassy stare on his face and you're never completely certain if he even heard you. Deanna bought one of her cousins, who graduated from college last December and moved to Atlanta to take a job with an International Banking/Investment company, a talking picture frame for Christmas. It was quite expensive and she used her own money. Before we wrapped it, we took off the packaging and I prepared the children who recorded a Christmas greeting to Bradley. I pushed the button, then pointed at Deanna. Quickly, and in her sweetest youngest female cousin voice, she said, "Merry Christmas, Bradley. We love you." Next, I pointed at Daelyn. "Merry Christmas, Brad." Then, to Dane.
"Merry? . . . " Long pause before we all broke out in laughter. Is it really that difficult to remember the words "Merry Christmas'? It sounded like he was asking Bradley if he was, indeed, merry. After a long, hard laugh, we retaped and, this time, Dane came through. I told Bradley about it when I called on Christmas Day from West Virginia and he told me I should've left the first greeting on the picture frame.
"It's Classic Dane," he said. Yup! That's my boy. Bradley understand him well because they're similar. But Dane is also extremely intelligent and, we've discovered, notices everything. He just stores it all in that sharp little brain of his for use at a later time, like when he announced to our family, at the ripe old age of 4 or so, that one of the neighbors down the street used a different air conditioning company than us. When we finally got down to the bottom of how he had figured that out, he said,
"I saw them carrying in the condenser yesterday." At 4. Most 4-yr. olds don't even know that word, let alone know the piece of equipment well enough to recognize it.
Deanna is my child that entertains us with her faux pas. She is forever using a word incorrectly in a hilarious way. While she, too, is very intelligent, she tends to talk before her brain engages, thus she says CRAZY things! Like the time we were at the Boshears Memorial Fly-in and they featured a boy flying his remote control airplane that he had built himself. He's known for his remote control aerobatics and has won several international medals. Deanna had the camera poised for the fly-by. When I asked her why, she said she wanted to get a good shot of the guy in the cockpit. After we laughed uproariously, we tried to explain to her what a remote control plane meant. She understood, she just couldn't seem to get the idea out of her mind that there was someone inside the plane at the controls.
Last night, while eating dinner, the children began asking questions about my Synchronized Swimming experience. I was fortunate enough to be able to swim with a local team in my teens that competed in the Nationals. The kids asked about our routine and I explained that our routine was about mermaids and the entire thing was done underwater. It was very important that we not break the surface of the water and create ripples that would keep the judges from being able to see the routine at the bottom of the pool.
"So, the judges were ABOVE the water?" Deanna asked.
"No, honey. They all had on swimsuits and were sitting cross-legged on the bottom of the pool making notes."
"I did it again, didn't I, Mommy?" she asked. Yes, dear.
But not to worry, Deanna. We rely on you - no cable T.V. yet.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Flying by the Fillings of My Teeth
A few years ago, Don and I watched the made-for-T.V. miniseries, Dinotopia. We enjoyed it so much that Don bought the DVD's. The children have watched them with us several times.
On the island of Dinotopia, which is cut off from the rest of the charted world by sharp, jagged coral reefs and strong, dangerous tides, man and dinosaur have learned to communicate. Dinotopia is governed by 13 basic principles, which include such philosophical ideas as, "We eat to live, not live to eat", and "Every raindrop raises the level of the sea". In Dinotopia, the common greeting is, "Breathe deeply" to which you respond, "Fly High".
This morning, I had oral surgery. A bridge on my lower left side, which I have had since the early 80's, had leaked and needed to be replaced. I have serious problems with dental injections. In the past, I've had blisters occur at the injection site and, quite often, my jaw will freeze in place, sometimes for weeks, rendering me unable to eat or talk. My dentist has walked through several of these side-effects to procedures and no longer laughs when I ask for pain medication. He requests that I dose up with Motrin or Ibuprofen for a couple of days before any dental work to get a headstart on dealing with inflammation. Today, I was very nervous, knowing that the procedure would be long and painful.
I told him how I was feeling and expressed some anxiety.
"You could even use Nitris on me if you like," I commented.
Realizing that I was serious, he pulled out the nitris oxide (which I've never had before but helped tremendously) and put the mask on me. Near the end of the procedure, I asked the technician to remove it - I felt I was getting a little too much at that point.
Before I left, he sat down to talk with me about what he found and discussed the nitris use with me, explaining that we can use it again in the future and maybe that's an answer to the stress dental work gives me. As we talked about it, I was reminded of Dinotopia's greeting (keep in mind, I had just had 2 hours of nitris oxide) - Breathe deeply; fly high.
He immediately saw the connection and began to laugh.
"Yep. The deeper you breathe, the higher you fly, all right." he said.
That greeting will forever take on a new meaning for me.
On the island of Dinotopia, which is cut off from the rest of the charted world by sharp, jagged coral reefs and strong, dangerous tides, man and dinosaur have learned to communicate. Dinotopia is governed by 13 basic principles, which include such philosophical ideas as, "We eat to live, not live to eat", and "Every raindrop raises the level of the sea". In Dinotopia, the common greeting is, "Breathe deeply" to which you respond, "Fly High".
This morning, I had oral surgery. A bridge on my lower left side, which I have had since the early 80's, had leaked and needed to be replaced. I have serious problems with dental injections. In the past, I've had blisters occur at the injection site and, quite often, my jaw will freeze in place, sometimes for weeks, rendering me unable to eat or talk. My dentist has walked through several of these side-effects to procedures and no longer laughs when I ask for pain medication. He requests that I dose up with Motrin or Ibuprofen for a couple of days before any dental work to get a headstart on dealing with inflammation. Today, I was very nervous, knowing that the procedure would be long and painful.
I told him how I was feeling and expressed some anxiety.
"You could even use Nitris on me if you like," I commented.
Realizing that I was serious, he pulled out the nitris oxide (which I've never had before but helped tremendously) and put the mask on me. Near the end of the procedure, I asked the technician to remove it - I felt I was getting a little too much at that point.
Before I left, he sat down to talk with me about what he found and discussed the nitris use with me, explaining that we can use it again in the future and maybe that's an answer to the stress dental work gives me. As we talked about it, I was reminded of Dinotopia's greeting (keep in mind, I had just had 2 hours of nitris oxide) - Breathe deeply; fly high.
He immediately saw the connection and began to laugh.
"Yep. The deeper you breathe, the higher you fly, all right." he said.
That greeting will forever take on a new meaning for me.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Old Friends
Back in October or November, when our stove broke and we had to buy a new one, I asked Don if we could go out to dinner while shopping for our new appliance. We seldom go out to dinner as a family, usually only for family birthdays, and that's with most of the Hunt Clan that lives locally.
We had a wonderful dinner and halfway through our meal, another family was seated near us - 5 adults. I recognized the oldest man and woman from my high school days (the woman had been our school librarian), then realized that one of my dearest friends from high school was the younger woman with them, the librarian's daughter.
I made eye contact with them, waved, and mouthed, "Hello, Mrs. Boerner. Hello, Carmen."
My friend didn't recognize me and was quite surprised when I shouted my maiden name to her across the restaurant. Before leaving, we exchanged numbers and e-mail addresses and agreed to try and get together with another good friend of both of ours who's still very close to me.
Carmen mentioned that she was a Special Ed teacher, so I thought about her in preparation for the holidays. Realizing she'd be off school and probably have a little free time, I gave my other friend a call, then left a message for Carmen, hoping to use that time to get us all together. Ultimately, the three of us had lunch at Olive Garden on New Year's Eve.
We laughingly told the waitress (who gave us our menus and, 30 minutes later, came back to see if we were ready to order - we hadn't even yet opened them) that we hadn't seen each other in - what's that? How many years? Let's see. I last saw Carmen upon high school graduation in 1979. WOW! That means I hadn't spent any time with this friend in 30 YEARS THIS MAY! Seemed hard to believe.
We had a wonderful time and all want to do it again soon. I've thought of Carmen repeatedly since our luncheon and am dying to call her again, but I just don't think it's practical to expect that she has time to get together once a month or more. So, I hold off, trying to be appropriate, but anxious to again renew that old friendship.
Earlier this week, I got home from running errands and there was a message on the answering machine from my sister.
"I'm now Andrea Trumbell's friend on Facebook," she announced. I immediately called her back.
"Andrea was MY friend," I nearly screamed into the phone. In fact, she was my BEST friend in Belgium in the third through sixth grades.
"I know! She asked about you."
Andrea's father was a teacher at the International School on base that all the military kids attended. She had a brother just a little older (one year, I think) than my brother, a sister that was the same age as my oldest sister and they were quite good friends, another sister who fell somewhere between two of my sisters, and then Andrea, who was my age. For three years, we spent the night with each other, rode bikes together, and were bosom buddies. Sometime in my early 20's, I had some contact with her. She had moved to the States and lived with her older sister while attending college, then married. The trail went cold about the time she married.
I quickly looked her up on my sister's facebook and sent her a Friend Request. She confirmed me the same day.
This is the thing: We began communicating yesterday. She sent me a message that said "How long-g-g has it been? I have thought of you EVERY SINGLE ST. PATRICKS DAY! Isn't that funny? Tell me all about your life since leaving SHAPE!"
SHAPE, Begium was the military base where my father was assigned. SHAPE stands for Supreme Headquarters, Allied Powers, Europe. The amazing thing is that Andrea, after 37 years, still remembers that my birthday falls on St. Patrick's Day. She remembers my birthday! How is that even possible. We were in the Sixth Grade when I last saw her. And she remembers me on my birthday every year.
Since I had to stop to wipe the tears off the keyboard, I'll end my Post here. Suffice it to say, running across these two friends after all these years has meant a lot to me. And the fact that, after 30 or more years, the relationship is still important is staggering to me. I feel with both these women like we've never been apart.
I guess that once you build deep relationships, the bond never quite dissolves. Two different women from two completely different seasons of my life, both a lifetime ago, and I still feel like their best friend.
Could God have given me a better Christmas present? I think not.
We had a wonderful dinner and halfway through our meal, another family was seated near us - 5 adults. I recognized the oldest man and woman from my high school days (the woman had been our school librarian), then realized that one of my dearest friends from high school was the younger woman with them, the librarian's daughter.
I made eye contact with them, waved, and mouthed, "Hello, Mrs. Boerner. Hello, Carmen."
My friend didn't recognize me and was quite surprised when I shouted my maiden name to her across the restaurant. Before leaving, we exchanged numbers and e-mail addresses and agreed to try and get together with another good friend of both of ours who's still very close to me.
Carmen mentioned that she was a Special Ed teacher, so I thought about her in preparation for the holidays. Realizing she'd be off school and probably have a little free time, I gave my other friend a call, then left a message for Carmen, hoping to use that time to get us all together. Ultimately, the three of us had lunch at Olive Garden on New Year's Eve.
We laughingly told the waitress (who gave us our menus and, 30 minutes later, came back to see if we were ready to order - we hadn't even yet opened them) that we hadn't seen each other in - what's that? How many years? Let's see. I last saw Carmen upon high school graduation in 1979. WOW! That means I hadn't spent any time with this friend in 30 YEARS THIS MAY! Seemed hard to believe.
We had a wonderful time and all want to do it again soon. I've thought of Carmen repeatedly since our luncheon and am dying to call her again, but I just don't think it's practical to expect that she has time to get together once a month or more. So, I hold off, trying to be appropriate, but anxious to again renew that old friendship.
Earlier this week, I got home from running errands and there was a message on the answering machine from my sister.
"I'm now Andrea Trumbell's friend on Facebook," she announced. I immediately called her back.
"Andrea was MY friend," I nearly screamed into the phone. In fact, she was my BEST friend in Belgium in the third through sixth grades.
"I know! She asked about you."
Andrea's father was a teacher at the International School on base that all the military kids attended. She had a brother just a little older (one year, I think) than my brother, a sister that was the same age as my oldest sister and they were quite good friends, another sister who fell somewhere between two of my sisters, and then Andrea, who was my age. For three years, we spent the night with each other, rode bikes together, and were bosom buddies. Sometime in my early 20's, I had some contact with her. She had moved to the States and lived with her older sister while attending college, then married. The trail went cold about the time she married.
I quickly looked her up on my sister's facebook and sent her a Friend Request. She confirmed me the same day.
This is the thing: We began communicating yesterday. She sent me a message that said "How long-g-g has it been? I have thought of you EVERY SINGLE ST. PATRICKS DAY! Isn't that funny? Tell me all about your life since leaving SHAPE!"
SHAPE, Begium was the military base where my father was assigned. SHAPE stands for Supreme Headquarters, Allied Powers, Europe. The amazing thing is that Andrea, after 37 years, still remembers that my birthday falls on St. Patrick's Day. She remembers my birthday! How is that even possible. We were in the Sixth Grade when I last saw her. And she remembers me on my birthday every year.
Since I had to stop to wipe the tears off the keyboard, I'll end my Post here. Suffice it to say, running across these two friends after all these years has meant a lot to me. And the fact that, after 30 or more years, the relationship is still important is staggering to me. I feel with both these women like we've never been apart.
I guess that once you build deep relationships, the bond never quite dissolves. Two different women from two completely different seasons of my life, both a lifetime ago, and I still feel like their best friend.
Could God have given me a better Christmas present? I think not.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Christmas Pix
My mother- and father-in-law, trying to tackle their stockings. Santa always fills our children's stockings and Don and I fill each others. We decided Grandma and Grandpa needed stockings, too, so we bought ones for them, then filled them. Grandpa said he had never had so many gifts on Christmas in his entire life. He really seemed to enjoy opening his gifts - a taste of Christmas the way the younger Doughty family does it. Notice who's piled on the couch next to Grandma and she can't open her own presents what for petting the little pooch. He always gravitates towards my mother-in-law when we're there. Every night, he snuggles her on the couch instead of me. He just instinctively knows she's Grandma. Plus, she's very sweet and is much kinder and more attentive to Donovan than most people (except for me, of course).
There are also pictures of our family gathered in Don's old bedroom at home (piled on the bed) at around 5 a.m. Christmas morning. When the children wake on Christmas day, they have been taught to come immediately to our bedroom. We talk about the meaning of Christmas, read Scripture, and spend some time praying together before we tackle the less spiritual side of things to get our day started right and keep our minds on the Baby Jesus instead of "what we got". So here we are, the children bright-eyed, Don and I barely able to focus. Grandma and Grandpa look a little bleary-eyed, too.
The last is a picture of my sweet Daney looking over the stash from his stocking, specifically his men's cologne. Santa give each of the boys a bottle of cologne in their stocking every year and they apply it quite liberally on special occasions. They'll appear in the kitchen chanting, "Smell me, Mommy, smell me." I seldom have the heart to tell them that I smelled them from two miles away. In any case, I love it that they like to smell like men.
Merry End-on-the-Season and happy belated Epiphany!
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
The Question of Space
The big question on my mind today . . . do you get rid of items that you seldom use but are perfect for that unusual occasion?
For instance, the roaster that I've only used maybe twice since marrying 13 years ago - this past Thanksgiving (my parents were in California with one of my sisters and I made a whole Thanksgiving dinner for my family by myself, for the first time ever) and perhaps one other time that I can't even remember.
And what about those Tupperware pieces like the jello molds (which I regretfully couldn't find for my father's birthday party in October and needed) or the mega-size Corningware that I only use when having many guests or preparing a meal for someone else with a large family.
All these items take up a lot of cabinet space and fly in the face of simplicity. Yet, I already own them and they make my life much simpler on those rare occasions when I need them.
When we were in England, we had so little and our lives were so very streamlined. But we were only there for 3 months and everyone understood that we weren't "setting up house". Obviously, our real lives are different. We HAVE set up house and we do have those special occasions when it's very nice to have those special pieces.
I remember being much younger and dreaming about having that Corningware piece and a roasting pan. I figured when I was old and established and my children were grown and gone, I could have those nice pieces, like the older couples I knew that had the "perfect piece" for every concern and whom you would call from time to time looking to borrow. Those pieces were on my Wish List and I watched for Macy's Open Stock sale every year so I could pick up one more much-needed (or so I thought) piece of Corningware.
I think my friend, Kelly, would probably say (isn't it funny when you've gotten to know someone so well that you can almost hear their voices in your head!) that if you have the room for them and you think you might use them, then it's a toss-up. If you want to keep them, do. If you don't, get rid of them and make-do with what you have.
But I feel stuck in the middle between TOO many of those items and having worked very hard to get to this point.
Any suggestions or ideas from readers (all 21 of you)? I'd really like to hear some compelling arguments to move me from this point of indecision.
So, if you have any words of wisdom to offer, please, feel free to offer. I'd love to hear what any of you think about this issue (Kel, even you - I might have missed the mark on your thoughts).
One final note. My niece, Alicia, spent the day with me yesterday. We filled up several 40-gal. trash bags with stuff that's already out at the curb for trash pick-up and 4 or 5 more that are in my trunk for Good Will. It's not as if I didn't get rid of anything. But Alicia's comment, repeatedly, was "I've never seen so much stuff!" We cleared out at least one shelf in each of 8 different cabinets. Everywhere I looked, there was empty space. And that was after finding places for most of the stuff that sat on my counters and the appliances that sat on the top of the refrigerator and deep freeze (except for my Kitchen-Aid mixer which is unbelievably heavy and we tried in several cabinets, only to find that it's too tall or too wide. The only cabinets where it fit were ones from which I would never be able to retrieve it because of it's weight, so I'd never be able to use it, and I DO use it, so it remains tucked in the corner of the top of the freezer). I have lots of empty space now, which is great, but all too quickly that space gets refilled, and I'm trying to simplify, not just de-rid myself.
Enough said. Comments, anyone?
For instance, the roaster that I've only used maybe twice since marrying 13 years ago - this past Thanksgiving (my parents were in California with one of my sisters and I made a whole Thanksgiving dinner for my family by myself, for the first time ever) and perhaps one other time that I can't even remember.
And what about those Tupperware pieces like the jello molds (which I regretfully couldn't find for my father's birthday party in October and needed) or the mega-size Corningware that I only use when having many guests or preparing a meal for someone else with a large family.
All these items take up a lot of cabinet space and fly in the face of simplicity. Yet, I already own them and they make my life much simpler on those rare occasions when I need them.
When we were in England, we had so little and our lives were so very streamlined. But we were only there for 3 months and everyone understood that we weren't "setting up house". Obviously, our real lives are different. We HAVE set up house and we do have those special occasions when it's very nice to have those special pieces.
I remember being much younger and dreaming about having that Corningware piece and a roasting pan. I figured when I was old and established and my children were grown and gone, I could have those nice pieces, like the older couples I knew that had the "perfect piece" for every concern and whom you would call from time to time looking to borrow. Those pieces were on my Wish List and I watched for Macy's Open Stock sale every year so I could pick up one more much-needed (or so I thought) piece of Corningware.
I think my friend, Kelly, would probably say (isn't it funny when you've gotten to know someone so well that you can almost hear their voices in your head!) that if you have the room for them and you think you might use them, then it's a toss-up. If you want to keep them, do. If you don't, get rid of them and make-do with what you have.
But I feel stuck in the middle between TOO many of those items and having worked very hard to get to this point.
Any suggestions or ideas from readers (all 21 of you)? I'd really like to hear some compelling arguments to move me from this point of indecision.
So, if you have any words of wisdom to offer, please, feel free to offer. I'd love to hear what any of you think about this issue (Kel, even you - I might have missed the mark on your thoughts).
One final note. My niece, Alicia, spent the day with me yesterday. We filled up several 40-gal. trash bags with stuff that's already out at the curb for trash pick-up and 4 or 5 more that are in my trunk for Good Will. It's not as if I didn't get rid of anything. But Alicia's comment, repeatedly, was "I've never seen so much stuff!" We cleared out at least one shelf in each of 8 different cabinets. Everywhere I looked, there was empty space. And that was after finding places for most of the stuff that sat on my counters and the appliances that sat on the top of the refrigerator and deep freeze (except for my Kitchen-Aid mixer which is unbelievably heavy and we tried in several cabinets, only to find that it's too tall or too wide. The only cabinets where it fit were ones from which I would never be able to retrieve it because of it's weight, so I'd never be able to use it, and I DO use it, so it remains tucked in the corner of the top of the freezer). I have lots of empty space now, which is great, but all too quickly that space gets refilled, and I'm trying to simplify, not just de-rid myself.
Enough said. Comments, anyone?
Friday, January 02, 2009
That Time of Year Again
We had some friends over for New Year's Eve. We try to do this every year. It began about five years ago when a close friend and I were talking about our plans and neither of us wanted to leave our children for the night to go out and celebrate. Everyone we knew that had parties planned them just for adults, which I suppose is quite typical. But I didn't want to leave my children with a sitter and I really didn't want to be away from them. So, we hatched a plan. Invite a few close friends to gather with our children. Everyone would bring party foods. We'd throw all the food out on the dining room table, play games including the children, shoot off fireworks during the evening, lay any children down that needed to go to bed, and have fun together.
After the first couple of years, a pattern developed. Folks would arrive around 8 p.m., we'd get into a roaring game of some kind (Scattergories or something that didn't involve a board but could be played with lots of people), when we got hungry, we'd take a break and hit the food. Around 10 or 10:30, we set off the fireworks and at 11:45, we'd move into the Den to watch the ball drop in New York City on T.V. We'd kiss our spouses and children to ring in the New Year, hug each other, then begin cleaning up. By 12:10, the house would be clean, everyone would be gone, and I'd be settling the children down to bed. Lots of fun for all, but not an extremely late night.
Over the years, the guest list has expanded a little. But it's still a relatively small group of close friends and family (my parents always come and one of my friend's mother always attends for a while) and I don't feel like the house has to be spotless.
This year, however, the house was so dirty and I was so unpeaceful about it that we worked really hard to get it clean before the party. Usually, I clean the house real well before Christmas, but we left for West Virginia on the 21st and were gone over the days I would normally be cleaning. It needed a good scrub and some organization, which it DID. The children worked side by side with me and Don and I was very pleased with the outcome.
My niece will be coming over next week to work with me to begin the initial steps of minimizing - getting rid of STUFF. All of us have FAR too much junk and it's time to pare down, significantly. We're in a good place now to begin the task. Things are neat and orderly so we can get down to the work of minimizing without needing to organize first.
Maybe we should have a party once a month or so.
Worth thinking about!
After the first couple of years, a pattern developed. Folks would arrive around 8 p.m., we'd get into a roaring game of some kind (Scattergories or something that didn't involve a board but could be played with lots of people), when we got hungry, we'd take a break and hit the food. Around 10 or 10:30, we set off the fireworks and at 11:45, we'd move into the Den to watch the ball drop in New York City on T.V. We'd kiss our spouses and children to ring in the New Year, hug each other, then begin cleaning up. By 12:10, the house would be clean, everyone would be gone, and I'd be settling the children down to bed. Lots of fun for all, but not an extremely late night.
Over the years, the guest list has expanded a little. But it's still a relatively small group of close friends and family (my parents always come and one of my friend's mother always attends for a while) and I don't feel like the house has to be spotless.
This year, however, the house was so dirty and I was so unpeaceful about it that we worked really hard to get it clean before the party. Usually, I clean the house real well before Christmas, but we left for West Virginia on the 21st and were gone over the days I would normally be cleaning. It needed a good scrub and some organization, which it DID. The children worked side by side with me and Don and I was very pleased with the outcome.
My niece will be coming over next week to work with me to begin the initial steps of minimizing - getting rid of STUFF. All of us have FAR too much junk and it's time to pare down, significantly. We're in a good place now to begin the task. Things are neat and orderly so we can get down to the work of minimizing without needing to organize first.
Maybe we should have a party once a month or so.
Worth thinking about!
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