Welcome Words: health

Showing posts with label health. Show all posts

Thursday, September 27, 2018

The incredible shrinking woman

One more body part gone.

Good Times Are Here Again

Release the white doves, ignite the fireworks, and fling the confetti.

"Resting Comfortably"

(My last mention of the subject, I ~~hope~~ swear.)

First (last Tuesday) the hour in the ER waiting room, being called in for triage and trying to explain symptoms while doubled over, and then being sent BACK to the waiting room.

Blandly Bonding

While I was in the hospital, Mamie stuck close to My Guy’s side and ate practically nothing.

No one could say that useful trait of denial ever dodged my family. I remember my sister’s starry-eyed rendition of “I Enjoy Being a Girl” for her 7^th grade talent show – in spite of her very modest vocal skills.

Public Service Announcement

     It's not often I have a chance to use this blog for good rather than just blowing off steam.
     (The fact that it's a slow news day here could be a factor, too, so maybe I'm not all that altruistic after all.)

    Anyway, one of my favorite bloggers, Henny, at Henny Penny Lane included some helpful advice in her comment about my !!!TICK!!! adventure and I'm quoting it verbatim:

"One easy way to remove a tick that is buried and biting is to rub a little liquid hand soap on the tick and wait a few seconds, and the tick will easily come off."

   I haven't tried it yet, but anyone who spends the amount of time she does in her garden knows what she's talking about.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Age and Trust

So the other day at the pool a neighbor whom I barely know turned to me and inquired whether I had a doctor locally.

Once more into the breach

I had an opportunity today to again use the breathing skills I acquired for the birth of my kids. Knowledge is a wonderful thing, and it’s good to know that something once learned is never lost.

Tartar City

Today I rediscovered the truth of the premise that nothing learned is ever really wasted. I had the arms of my chair in a death grip as I breathed in and out, trying to focus on some other body part in an attempt to return to the Lamaze breathing exercises of almost 42 years ago. My dental hygienist Jenn – whom I honestly like when she doesn’t have an implement in her hand – was cleaning my teeth. She was employing that tool of Satan, the waterpik, which shoots sub-arctic water beneath my gums.

This would all be perfectly fine if I didn’t have :

a pain threshold lower than a nine-day veteran of the Iron Maiden
aging gums that have rolled up like 8 pm small-town sidewalks.
aging teeth with more cracks than a pre-Civil War house foundation.

By now she knows who she’s dealing with, and bless her heart, she

numbs my entire mouth before approaching me. Still, we have the occasional exciting moment when she hits a live wire in a tooth and I suddenly levitate an inch or two above the chair while water is sprayed liberally over both of us.

Today while I waited for the next inevitable jolt of pain, I tried to transport my mind somewhere else. This time I not only employed the breathing exercises that brought my now-41 year-old son into the world (deep breath, release slowly, focus on my left knee cap or pinky finger), but I also threw in a few butt clenches and Kegel contractions.

I figured I might not have any control over the events in my mouth, but at least I’d come away with a firm derriere and a decreased chance of incontinence.