Due to 1) my last minute decision to add a second spaghetti dish to last night's linguine with clams 2) needing to have Will's dinner ready by 6 in order for him to make his shift at the hospital and 3) my insistence that a friend who showed up at dinnertime eat with us, I forgot to take my evening meds. The critical one being the nortriptyline I take for migraine prophylaxis (isn't that a fun word?--sounds like a Jewish custom, but means preventative). It is one of those medications whose dosage must be increased or decreased gradually--no sudden starts or stops. It is supposed to be taken at bedtime because one of the side effects is drowsiness. I take it at dinnertime because taking it before bedtime makes me have nightmares. That warning is listed in the section below Unusual and Rare reactions, the section that says--Connie Lamb Only: nightmares.
Usually I can tell when I miss a dose because I am not sleepy at my usual bedtime. Last night I was so post-prandially pooped that I fell asleep anyway, but my eyelids sproinged open at 3:30 and my brain didn't figure out the problem for another hour. That caused an unwelcome, three hour siest-a-resistance. Normally, I pray (I also pray abnormally) when that happens, but even my long prayer list got depleted before I got drowsy.
However, there are blessings even in insomnia. For instance, it gave me an opportunity to appreciate our cozy couch, the warmth of the gas fireplace, my spacious home, not to mention 24/7 intimate access to the Creator of the universe. Eventually I did fall asleep, but resting in God bests sleeping in bed anytime.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Linked Out
Last week I distractedly clicked on a Facebook link I thought had been shared by a friend. It showed a despondent looking picture of President Obama. I figured if something made Obama sad, it would probably make me happy. It turned out to be one of those sponsored links promising, in this case, tips for surviving the upcoming economic disaster. I do not doubt that there will be a collapse of American economy. It would be foolish to believe our nation will be the only one in history that hasn't destroyed itself by printing more money to pay its debts. Economies are governed by natural laws just like everything else in the universe. I passed the time alternating between sorting through boxes and being irritated while the speaker droned on promising survival tips but providing only example after example of his premise. However, I was unwilling to shut it off because it would mean the hour I spent waiting for the tips had been totally wasted. As expected, he did not disclose his specific method of preserving resources in a collapsed economy. Those are in a free newsletter, which no doubt leads to a program which is not free. In other words, part of his wealth preservation formula is to fleece people on the internet. But he did hint that the secret was to invest in hard assets such as silver, gold and land.
By divine coincidence we have been studying Matthew 6 in BSF this week, so I was uniquely prepared to recognize that the analyst's method was a prime example of what Jesus said not to do. Mt. 6: 19, 20a says, "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break through and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. . " Prepping for doomsday has become a cultural phenomenon that even Christians have become caught up in, and the internet is an ideal forum to spread and support it. To spin the old soda jingle, "I'm a prepper, he's a prepper. . .Wouldn't you like to be a prepper too?" It sounds prudent, even like good stewardship.
The problem is that God is apparently not a prepper and doesn't want us to be a prepper too. God does not need to be, He is as much in control on "doomsday" as any other day. In my last couple studies of Matthew, I noticed that Jesus spends half the book warning the residents of Jerusalem about the coming siege. He does not tell them what to pack, he tells them not to pack and, more importantly, when to leave. Jesus wants to save their lives, not their stuff. I try hard to be a good steward of the blessings God has given me both as an act of obedience and because, most often, the means God provides to take care of our old age is our young age. There is nothing wrong with gathering emergency supplies as long as we remember that, as Christians, we would be obligated to share them with our saved and unsaved neighbors should they be needed. Some preppers are prepared to defend their possessions at gunpoint. I have not yet found a verse to back up that sentiment. Besides, in desperate times, what you need is food and hard assets don't taste very good.
Back to Matthew 6--God has not promised us silver, gold and land, what he has promised are food and clothes. Since God knows what we need and has promised to provide it, Jesus encourages us not to worry--actually, he commands us not to worry. Moth and rust may not be as much a threat to our current assets as thieves, scams and economic collapse, but 100 percent of the time, the penalty for our earthly withdrawal is 100 percent of our assets. Paul Harvey used to preface some of his news with, "So you don't run out of things to worry about. ." and thanks, in part, to the internet we will not have that problem. To spin another jingle, "Silly Christians, prepping's for pagans".
By divine coincidence we have been studying Matthew 6 in BSF this week, so I was uniquely prepared to recognize that the analyst's method was a prime example of what Jesus said not to do. Mt. 6: 19, 20a says, "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break through and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. . " Prepping for doomsday has become a cultural phenomenon that even Christians have become caught up in, and the internet is an ideal forum to spread and support it. To spin the old soda jingle, "I'm a prepper, he's a prepper. . .Wouldn't you like to be a prepper too?" It sounds prudent, even like good stewardship.
The problem is that God is apparently not a prepper and doesn't want us to be a prepper too. God does not need to be, He is as much in control on "doomsday" as any other day. In my last couple studies of Matthew, I noticed that Jesus spends half the book warning the residents of Jerusalem about the coming siege. He does not tell them what to pack, he tells them not to pack and, more importantly, when to leave. Jesus wants to save their lives, not their stuff. I try hard to be a good steward of the blessings God has given me both as an act of obedience and because, most often, the means God provides to take care of our old age is our young age. There is nothing wrong with gathering emergency supplies as long as we remember that, as Christians, we would be obligated to share them with our saved and unsaved neighbors should they be needed. Some preppers are prepared to defend their possessions at gunpoint. I have not yet found a verse to back up that sentiment. Besides, in desperate times, what you need is food and hard assets don't taste very good.
Back to Matthew 6--God has not promised us silver, gold and land, what he has promised are food and clothes. Since God knows what we need and has promised to provide it, Jesus encourages us not to worry--actually, he commands us not to worry. Moth and rust may not be as much a threat to our current assets as thieves, scams and economic collapse, but 100 percent of the time, the penalty for our earthly withdrawal is 100 percent of our assets. Paul Harvey used to preface some of his news with, "So you don't run out of things to worry about. ." and thanks, in part, to the internet we will not have that problem. To spin another jingle, "Silly Christians, prepping's for pagans".
Sunday, October 13, 2013
My Mind is Made Up
Today I had fun finishing the phrase my mind is made up.
My mind is made up: but I wish it was real.
and I made yours up for you.
and so is my face.
does that mean it's fiction?
so, am I supposed to kiss it?
like constitutional right to health care.
like "reality" TV.
like polite TSA agents.
like global warming data.
like Olympic sport categories.
like lawyers that only want to help you.
unfortunately, my body is real.
now if only I could make up my weight.
so why can't I make up my I.Q.?
you'd think my imagination could do better than this.
There are more I could add but I think I'll quit here. I haven't quite made up my mind.
My mind is made up: but I wish it was real.
and I made yours up for you.
and so is my face.
does that mean it's fiction?
so, am I supposed to kiss it?
like constitutional right to health care.
like "reality" TV.
like polite TSA agents.
like global warming data.
like Olympic sport categories.
like lawyers that only want to help you.
unfortunately, my body is real.
now if only I could make up my weight.
so why can't I make up my I.Q.?
you'd think my imagination could do better than this.
There are more I could add but I think I'll quit here. I haven't quite made up my mind.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
I Am 57, After All
I am fairly certain that I'm a woman of a certain age, but what I want to know is if I'm old enough to be excused. When do I get to blame my faults, failing memory and figure flaws on my age? Is 57 old enough to blame for my lost figure, looks and car keys? Can I hold my age responsible that I gained weight, wrinkles and age spots? I don't mind the ravages of time as much as the implication that it is my fault I got ravaged. If I just worked out more, ate healthier, bought better cosmetics etc. I, too, could look like the aging models in the magazine ads. Never mind that at my youthful best I didn't look like those models at their aged worst, it is my fault if I look my age.
I workout. I lift weights--me. I do resistance exercise, it's called gravity. I'm not a couch potato. I'm a potato that's down on the floor exercising. Still, the best I can manage is to be firm under my fat. I try to eat healthy. I actually like fruits, vegetables and whole grains. However, I do not follow the ever changing food and fitness fads. I have lived too long to believe that ordinary foods are toxic or that some newly discovered food or exercise will transform my body.
And frankly I can't afford beauty. I have indulged in facials that removed the red from my skin and the green from my wallet. While they tightened my facial muscles, they loosened the ones gripping my credit card. For those who can't afford, or spell, an aesthetician, a less expensive alternative is to buy expensive beauty products and apply them yourself. But this is only slightly less expensive. There are now hundreds of anti-aging products created just for those of us in the boomerange, designed to erase the traces of both time and our bank accounts. Besides, there is no point having my face write checks that my body can't cash, and vice versa. I have seen some of these lifted, tucked and tightened women and they look, at best, unnatural and, at worst, like mummies. Excuse me if that sounds inappropriate, but I am 57 after all.
I workout. I lift weights--me. I do resistance exercise, it's called gravity. I'm not a couch potato. I'm a potato that's down on the floor exercising. Still, the best I can manage is to be firm under my fat. I try to eat healthy. I actually like fruits, vegetables and whole grains. However, I do not follow the ever changing food and fitness fads. I have lived too long to believe that ordinary foods are toxic or that some newly discovered food or exercise will transform my body.
And frankly I can't afford beauty. I have indulged in facials that removed the red from my skin and the green from my wallet. While they tightened my facial muscles, they loosened the ones gripping my credit card. For those who can't afford, or spell, an aesthetician, a less expensive alternative is to buy expensive beauty products and apply them yourself. But this is only slightly less expensive. There are now hundreds of anti-aging products created just for those of us in the boomerange, designed to erase the traces of both time and our bank accounts. Besides, there is no point having my face write checks that my body can't cash, and vice versa. I have seen some of these lifted, tucked and tightened women and they look, at best, unnatural and, at worst, like mummies. Excuse me if that sounds inappropriate, but I am 57 after all.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Words That Should Exist
longage--If there is such a thing as a shortage, why not a longage? When our cat Maynard stretches out in the sun, there is definitely a longage of cat.
backage--If there is frontage, there must necessarily be backage.For instance, the same realty ad describing a home with gorgeous river frontage, may forget to include the gravel pit backage.
smartfounded--The opposite of dumbfounded.
combobulated--No one knows what discombobulated really means anyway. It probably happens to people who are dumbfounded.
ept--This one I heard on a sitcom long ago, the opposite of inept.
dubitably--We don't need this word, there are plenty of synonyms, but it would be fun to say.
impotential--The likelihood (as opposed to the likelisweater) that your newly elected official will not keep his campaign promises--or the unlikelihood that he will.
distresso--Spilling your cappuccino in the car.
detextive--A person who recognizes and deletes texting errors before sending.
overflush/underflush--We have a dual flush toilet, push the small button for number one, the large button for number two. Occasionally I get them mixed up, there should be a word for that.
lethalize--Legalizing murder. See abortion. Sometimes mistaken for euthanasia.
superpceed--Being so concerned about offending a minority that you wind up offending the majority. For example, renaming Christmas Winter Holiday so as not to offend the tiny percentage of Americans who claim to be atheists.
tolera-bull--Being offended that other people are intolerant.
omnibore--Someone who shares boring facts on every subject.
goozle--Coined by my son, a combination of gush and ooze, used to describe the head of a whole roasted pig. As in, "The eyes goozled out."
backage--If there is frontage, there must necessarily be backage.For instance, the same realty ad describing a home with gorgeous river frontage, may forget to include the gravel pit backage.
smartfounded--The opposite of dumbfounded.
combobulated--No one knows what discombobulated really means anyway. It probably happens to people who are dumbfounded.
ept--This one I heard on a sitcom long ago, the opposite of inept.
dubitably--We don't need this word, there are plenty of synonyms, but it would be fun to say.
impotential--The likelihood (as opposed to the likelisweater) that your newly elected official will not keep his campaign promises--or the unlikelihood that he will.
distresso--Spilling your cappuccino in the car.
detextive--A person who recognizes and deletes texting errors before sending.
overflush/underflush--We have a dual flush toilet, push the small button for number one, the large button for number two. Occasionally I get them mixed up, there should be a word for that.
lethalize--Legalizing murder. See abortion. Sometimes mistaken for euthanasia.
superpceed--Being so concerned about offending a minority that you wind up offending the majority. For example, renaming Christmas Winter Holiday so as not to offend the tiny percentage of Americans who claim to be atheists.
tolera-bull--Being offended that other people are intolerant.
omnibore--Someone who shares boring facts on every subject.
goozle--Coined by my son, a combination of gush and ooze, used to describe the head of a whole roasted pig. As in, "The eyes goozled out."
Monday, September 23, 2013
If I Lived Before. . .
If I lived in the time before blood transfusions, my younger brother and sister would have died in infancy of Rh blood incompatibility. If Rod somehow survived birth, in the time before hearing aids, he would not be the music lover he is today. A whole world of sounds and learning would have been shut to him, and perhaps, the door to an institution.
If I lived in the time before Caesarians, I would have watched my sister die in labor with her first child. The same is true for my sister-in-law, who would not have survived to give birth to her third child, born with spina bifida. If not for Caesarian birth, Zane would have died in infancy when the blister like meningocele on his lower vertebra burst in the birth canal, contaminating his spinal fluid. And if he miraculously survived that, his prospects for life would still have been as grim as Rod's.
If I had lived before migraine interruptor meds, I would have suffered chronically from the nauseating pain fog of migraines or the medicated brainfog of painkillers. But that suffering probably would have been cut short if my Graves' disease had developed in the days before thyroid irradiation. Before radiation or meds, half of Graves sufferers died. From my own experience, I can attest it would be an unpleasant way to die.
If my mother had lived before psychiatric drugs, as limited as they were in the sixties, she might have wound up in a nightmarish mental institution or made a perpetual nightmare of our home.
It is easy to long for the good old days of patriotism, morality and honor, but then--we are alive to do so. Would I have lived to lament the losses of these times, if I had lived before?
If I lived in the time before Caesarians, I would have watched my sister die in labor with her first child. The same is true for my sister-in-law, who would not have survived to give birth to her third child, born with spina bifida. If not for Caesarian birth, Zane would have died in infancy when the blister like meningocele on his lower vertebra burst in the birth canal, contaminating his spinal fluid. And if he miraculously survived that, his prospects for life would still have been as grim as Rod's.
If I had lived before migraine interruptor meds, I would have suffered chronically from the nauseating pain fog of migraines or the medicated brainfog of painkillers. But that suffering probably would have been cut short if my Graves' disease had developed in the days before thyroid irradiation. Before radiation or meds, half of Graves sufferers died. From my own experience, I can attest it would be an unpleasant way to die.
If my mother had lived before psychiatric drugs, as limited as they were in the sixties, she might have wound up in a nightmarish mental institution or made a perpetual nightmare of our home.
It is easy to long for the good old days of patriotism, morality and honor, but then--we are alive to do so. Would I have lived to lament the losses of these times, if I had lived before?
Monday, September 2, 2013
For the Last Time
All through the years of child rearing I used the phrase "for the last time", but didn't mean it.
"For the last time, SIT DOWN!"
"For the last time, BE STILL!"
"For the last time, PICK UP YOUR TOYS!"
For the last time simply meant if I had to say it again, child rearing would involve their rear. I would be repeating "for the last time" for many years. It was not until the children started leaving home that for the last time became accurate. Will moved out nearly ten years ago but, since he has been in nursing school, has spent the last three summers at home. He viewed this as favor showing support for higher education in general and him in particular, we viewed it as a bonus showing appreciation for a home in general and us in particular. Will will graduate and become an R.N. next spring and a husband sometime next summer. We are very pleased about both of these accomplishments, but it means his summers in our home have happened for the last time and there is sorrow in that thought.
I console myself with the knowledge that not only will Will be visiting in the years to come, but he will be bringing his wife with him, meaning our investment in him (unlike most of our investments) will have actually doubled. In future years, it may even yield a stock split. I also find comfort in remembering that when he moved out at 20, I had no reason to anticipate these bonus Will-full summers. None of us know what wonderful things God may have in store for us. His bottomless blessings come with free refills and last for the last times.
"For the last time, SIT DOWN!"
"For the last time, BE STILL!"
"For the last time, PICK UP YOUR TOYS!"
For the last time simply meant if I had to say it again, child rearing would involve their rear. I would be repeating "for the last time" for many years. It was not until the children started leaving home that for the last time became accurate. Will moved out nearly ten years ago but, since he has been in nursing school, has spent the last three summers at home. He viewed this as favor showing support for higher education in general and him in particular, we viewed it as a bonus showing appreciation for a home in general and us in particular. Will will graduate and become an R.N. next spring and a husband sometime next summer. We are very pleased about both of these accomplishments, but it means his summers in our home have happened for the last time and there is sorrow in that thought.
I console myself with the knowledge that not only will Will be visiting in the years to come, but he will be bringing his wife with him, meaning our investment in him (unlike most of our investments) will have actually doubled. In future years, it may even yield a stock split. I also find comfort in remembering that when he moved out at 20, I had no reason to anticipate these bonus Will-full summers. None of us know what wonderful things God may have in store for us. His bottomless blessings come with free refills and last for the last times.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)