I'm feeling better, finally, and I didn't have to visit any wacky doctors.
Valentine's Day was a bust because of my illness, though. I love Valentine's Day. I was telling that to my mom the other day and she said, "Why do you like it so much? It seems kind of silly to me."
I like it because it's about love. Most of the other holidays have a heavy focus on religion, obligation, and family get-togethers. I like the other holidays just fine and I know that Valentine's Day comes from St. Valentine, but our modern-day celebration of it is pretty basic. You spend time with the one you love.
So leave it to someone in my life to complicate the whole thing and make it about religion. I retrieved the mail on Valentine's Day and my immediate reaction was to be relieved not to get anything from my husband's family. There was a yellow envelope and I could tell from the outline of an ill-fitting heart shape inside that a Valentine was enclosed. A homemade Valentine from my nephew! I thought as I carried it inside. It was addressed to "Mr. & Mrs. Daniel ------ and family," which seemed odd and always pisses my feminist self off because I'm not technically Mrs. Daniel and, well, I digress.
There was no return address and it was postmarked from Virginia, so I figured my friend who has two small children must have made me a Valentine. How sweet! I thought as I opened it. There was a homemade heart inside, but it had a typed religious message (John 3:16, Google informs me), that when typed a certain way, makes the letters within it spell out the word VALENTINE. It was the crappiest thing I have ever seen and I immediately knew my artistic friend could not be responsible. No one signed it, though. It was just put inside a Hallmark envelope (the real card must have been thrown away, unless they stole the envelope in which case they shouldn't be quoting the bible).
Now it's probably pretty evident that I am not a religious person. I consider myself Agnostic, although I lean towards Atheism more than anything. I don't care to speak with authority on the matter, so Agnostism fits well. Above all, I think religion should be personal and we shouldn't judge others on their choices to be or not be religious.
Now to certain people I have known in my life (my in-laws, for example), my not being Catholic is horrendous. It's odd then that I have probably lived my life with more scruples than a lot of Christains I know. To some, I am a terrible person and I am doomed. I have corrupted my husband, who used to be a practicing Catholic when he was a child, and my daughter, who we chose not to baptise.
I'm not sure who would go through all the trouble of sending us such an anonymous piece of mail, but I'm assuming my in-laws are responsible. And why not? Just because we don't speak to them and they have no idea how to reconnect with their son doesn't mean that we won't be tricked into thinking Jesus lives in Virginia and that we'll be going to hell unless we find Catholism. Why would I do that when all my friends and family will be hamming it up in hell?
I joke, of course. I don't believe in hell. (Therein lies the problem, some would argue.) I have my own beliefs, just like everyone else. And my husband, surprisingly enough, thinks for himself. I just don't see how such a strange, psycho piece of mail would change a mind.
If I'm wrong about the whole thing, well, I'll blog from my fiery damnation.
February 18, 2008
February 15, 2008
Immaculate Ears
A quick search on Google told me I must have an intestinal flu. Not that I needed Google to tell me that, but I think I've become dependent on searching for something on Google daily.
Dan asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, as if he was asking me to a movie. "Ooooh, yeah!" I said, still managing to be sarcastic through my stomach cramps. I think it's his way of asking if I'm alright. At least I broke him of his Gatorade-and-fever questioning from when we were first married. Obviously his mother immediately turned to the magical sports drink and a thermometer when he was sick as a child.
The last time I went to the doctor, I was so aggravated. I don't have a family doctor only because I haven't needed one in a long time. When I had a pain in my jaw and ear last year, I thought maybe I had an ear infection. So I looked up the closest doctor and made an appointment. His office was in a house (similar, weirdly, to my own). I was happily called into the examining room quickly only to find myself sitting on a tiny wooden chair in a small room that I could tell, from my own house layout, was a bedroom in past years. I was surrounded by antique medical objects. Now, I actually love antiques and was quite amused for a few minutes as I looked at the examining table, medicine bottles, and scales. But then as I waited and waited, I realized that my discomfort was from sitting on the newest, most unfortable seat in the room. I waited and waited on my tiny seat, my arms by my stomach, edged out by an antique medicine cabinet and the doorway.
Finally, when the doctor came in after having a loud and rather casual conversation for a half-hour in the room across the hall, he found me playing a game on my cell phone.
"What are you doing there?" he asked. He looked like Bill Nye, the Science Guy.
"Playing a game," I said irritably. I thought about saying how I had an infant at home and that I didn't have time to wait, but I didn't.
"They have games on phones now? What will they think of next?"
Now I'm not that technically advanced, but I had a cell phone (albeit a BAG phone) in 1995. I would think he would have encountered a phone with a game on it at, say, a medical convention.
His examination took about 2 minutes. "Aha!" he screamed. "I have found your problem." He started laughing.
I waited for him to explain. That's usually what happens when you pay someone to explain. "What?" I finally asked.
"Do you know why we humans have ear wax?" Jesus. Maybe he WAS Bill Nye.
I'll save you the exact explanation, but let's say that I thought I was in Ear Function 101--complete with diagrams that he took from the University of Wherever. I'm not kidding. "Come with me!" he said, and I reluctantly followed him across the hall to his office and he made me look at an antique huge diagram of the human BODY. Then I had to listen to how the building that contained those posters was being demolished and that he was able to save them from anniliation.
"Tell your mother your ears are too clean!" was his diagnosis.
"What?" I said, in a daze.
"Your ears are too clean and you don't have any ear wax. We have ear wax for a reason. You must be a cronic user of Q-Tips. They're not made to go in ears."
"Then why do they make them?" (I HAD to ask.)
"Blah, blah, blah" is what I heard as he explained the marketing campaign of Q-Tips and various products throughout history. (I had to ask?)
After my lecture, he realized that I suffered from infertility and was intrigued and said that he'd love to figure out my problem. His enthusiasm freaked me out. That's when I bolted for the door.
Before I left, he actually came out to the reception area (aka living room) and managed one last statement: "You live so close--next time, walk." (I have immaculate ears AND I'm lazy.)
I will suffer gladly at home on my couch or for hours in an ER before I'd ever go there again.
Dan asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, as if he was asking me to a movie. "Ooooh, yeah!" I said, still managing to be sarcastic through my stomach cramps. I think it's his way of asking if I'm alright. At least I broke him of his Gatorade-and-fever questioning from when we were first married. Obviously his mother immediately turned to the magical sports drink and a thermometer when he was sick as a child.
The last time I went to the doctor, I was so aggravated. I don't have a family doctor only because I haven't needed one in a long time. When I had a pain in my jaw and ear last year, I thought maybe I had an ear infection. So I looked up the closest doctor and made an appointment. His office was in a house (similar, weirdly, to my own). I was happily called into the examining room quickly only to find myself sitting on a tiny wooden chair in a small room that I could tell, from my own house layout, was a bedroom in past years. I was surrounded by antique medical objects. Now, I actually love antiques and was quite amused for a few minutes as I looked at the examining table, medicine bottles, and scales. But then as I waited and waited, I realized that my discomfort was from sitting on the newest, most unfortable seat in the room. I waited and waited on my tiny seat, my arms by my stomach, edged out by an antique medicine cabinet and the doorway.
Finally, when the doctor came in after having a loud and rather casual conversation for a half-hour in the room across the hall, he found me playing a game on my cell phone.
"What are you doing there?" he asked. He looked like Bill Nye, the Science Guy.
"Playing a game," I said irritably. I thought about saying how I had an infant at home and that I didn't have time to wait, but I didn't.
"They have games on phones now? What will they think of next?"
Now I'm not that technically advanced, but I had a cell phone (albeit a BAG phone) in 1995. I would think he would have encountered a phone with a game on it at, say, a medical convention.
His examination took about 2 minutes. "Aha!" he screamed. "I have found your problem." He started laughing.
I waited for him to explain. That's usually what happens when you pay someone to explain. "What?" I finally asked.
"Do you know why we humans have ear wax?" Jesus. Maybe he WAS Bill Nye.
I'll save you the exact explanation, but let's say that I thought I was in Ear Function 101--complete with diagrams that he took from the University of Wherever. I'm not kidding. "Come with me!" he said, and I reluctantly followed him across the hall to his office and he made me look at an antique huge diagram of the human BODY. Then I had to listen to how the building that contained those posters was being demolished and that he was able to save them from anniliation.
"Tell your mother your ears are too clean!" was his diagnosis.
"What?" I said, in a daze.
"Your ears are too clean and you don't have any ear wax. We have ear wax for a reason. You must be a cronic user of Q-Tips. They're not made to go in ears."
"Then why do they make them?" (I HAD to ask.)
"Blah, blah, blah" is what I heard as he explained the marketing campaign of Q-Tips and various products throughout history. (I had to ask?)
After my lecture, he realized that I suffered from infertility and was intrigued and said that he'd love to figure out my problem. His enthusiasm freaked me out. That's when I bolted for the door.
Before I left, he actually came out to the reception area (aka living room) and managed one last statement: "You live so close--next time, walk." (I have immaculate ears AND I'm lazy.)
I will suffer gladly at home on my couch or for hours in an ER before I'd ever go there again.
February 09, 2008
Energy Conservation
On Oprah the other day, they were talking about The Secret, a book about changing your life with positive thinking. Have you read it? I don't think it's a good sign that I dismissed it away at first, but I do think that it makes sense. We make our own destiny. We subconsciously control the way our lives play out. The medical field has been suggesting that for a long time now.
There was a book a few years ago called the Celestine Prophacy and although it was fiction, I believed a lot of its basic ideas. One of them was that we are in constant exchange of energy with others. There are different kinds of energy "stealers" and that's why we sometimes clash with others. I applied it to my own life and began to see why certain relationships were working and others were not. When you're in love, energy flows evenly and freely to one another, so it's easy and comforting to be with that person. And when someone is trying to take your energy for their own gain (which everyone does, just in different ways and different levels), you feel drained.
Since the universe began with an atom and energy being released in a big bang, (I'm a little vaclempt. The Big Bang--neither BIG nor a BANG: discuss!) energy is at our core. We start out as a single cell and grow from there. The universe and all of its matter is inside us, so energy exchange makes a bit of sense to me.
Anyway, I have been trying to be more positive and I think I have been. If you read some of my first entries on this blog you could see the difference. I have virtually eliminated the obsession of certain failed relationships, although I still have to work on not worrying about it when I am contacted. Hell, when I forgot my infertility and truly began to think differently, we finally conceived. I had always hated the "advice" to just not think about it, but according to the people discussing it on Oprah (since I have not yet read it), that is exactly how energy works.
So if I could ever get out of my pajamas today (it's 1pm), I might go pick it up.
There was a book a few years ago called the Celestine Prophacy and although it was fiction, I believed a lot of its basic ideas. One of them was that we are in constant exchange of energy with others. There are different kinds of energy "stealers" and that's why we sometimes clash with others. I applied it to my own life and began to see why certain relationships were working and others were not. When you're in love, energy flows evenly and freely to one another, so it's easy and comforting to be with that person. And when someone is trying to take your energy for their own gain (which everyone does, just in different ways and different levels), you feel drained.
Since the universe began with an atom and energy being released in a big bang, (I'm a little vaclempt. The Big Bang--neither BIG nor a BANG: discuss!) energy is at our core. We start out as a single cell and grow from there. The universe and all of its matter is inside us, so energy exchange makes a bit of sense to me.
Anyway, I have been trying to be more positive and I think I have been. If you read some of my first entries on this blog you could see the difference. I have virtually eliminated the obsession of certain failed relationships, although I still have to work on not worrying about it when I am contacted. Hell, when I forgot my infertility and truly began to think differently, we finally conceived. I had always hated the "advice" to just not think about it, but according to the people discussing it on Oprah (since I have not yet read it), that is exactly how energy works.
So if I could ever get out of my pajamas today (it's 1pm), I might go pick it up.
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