Wednesday, March 2, 2011
At what point did my body start to fall apart? My doctor gave me the best diagnosis ever -- LOSE WEIGHT! How would that have escaped my attention? He must think I have no mirrors at home. But in all fairness, he's a great doctor and what he had to say was more than just words, and let me tell you he did not mince the words he used.
So, I gotta cut the carbs and a whole bunch of other stuff that's on the pamphlets I got. Next step is to do some research on type 2 diabetes and get started on that walking routine I kept planning on; now's the time for it.
Wish me luck!
P.S. -- as for my thumb, got a brace for it; tiny fracture. It only hurts when I try to grab a door knob to open, twist open a cap or pill bottles, sweep with a broom (very hard to do with the left hand), squeeze a sponge; basically any function that requires my use of the thumb to complete a function causes me killer pain!
Do you know the expression "feeling your age?" Well, I must be feeling somebody's age and let me tell you -- that it totally sucks!
Sunday, February 27, 2011
I have no qualms about catching the bus. I mean, I don't have to worry about fighting traffic cause someone else is driving, it's always air conditioned (oftentimes near frigid temperatures), I can always get a seat, and the best reason . . . in the quiet hours of the morning I can put on my earphones, select my playlist, close my eyes and catch up on some sleep.
There's a lot of effort that goes into being a passenger of public transportation. We have our routines that we follow. Like, seats we absolutely have to sit in; (the longs seats that face each other or the two passenger seat), do we sit in the front, middle, or back of the bus? Do we sit near the air or some place warmer? Do we sit where it's quiet or where all the action is taking place? These are all valid questions. And if you, like me, are a frequent bus traveler (no mileage program currently available) those questions have already been answered. And no matter how hectic your day may be, riding the bus remains a constant.
And yet, even the most constant routine can have a monkey wrench thrown into the works. Case in point, when your regular bus driver has rotated out of his route and now you have a new driver. But for the most part, not much changes unless . . .
Unless . . . as it happens, on that particular morning, I struggled to get out of bed, and had to race out the door to catch my bus on time. Slightly out of breath, with beads of perspiration slowly rolling down the sides of my face, I stand at the crosswalk for what seems like ages until the light finally changes just as the bus pulls up to the bus stop. With bus pass in hand, I drag myself up the steps and briefly acknowledge the new driver on my beloved 93 Express. My favorite seats (long seats at the front of the bus) are all taken so I grab the first open seat next to a lady who's bundled up like Nanook of the North and curled up by the window in deep hibernation. I settle in with earphones in place, playlist qued and eagerly look forward to the moment I can close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
From the motion of the bus, I can tell that the new driver is moving that bus along and soon we hit the Zipper Lane and zoom along nicely. Fifteen to twenty minutes into the ride, as I am dozing in and out of sleep, I become aware of a conversation going on between one of the passengers up front (on the long seats) and the driver. I try to push it from my mind because I tell myself that "he's (bus driver) done a good job so far."
At one point along our journey, there's a slight rumble under the tires of the bus. It's only been about thirty minutes (that's a quick ride!) The rumble is a tell-tale sign that the bus is moving out of the Zipper lane and merging onto the freeway near the airport. Since we didn't hit a lot of traffic, I realize my nap time has been slightly diminished and so I close my eyes to get in whatever bit of dozing I can get. It's about this time, that the conversation of the passenger and the driver that I overheard earlier has now become animated, loud, and intrusive (on my sleep time). As we quickly pass the airport, and make the turn towards the tunnel to merge from the H2 freeway onto the H1 freeway, an irritating noise fills the airway. It's the sound of the driver's intercom.
With eyes still close, I feel a scowl begin to form above the brows on my forehead.
**My internal voice:
"Really? We're getting a public address now?!"
**The actual words of the driver over the intercom:
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen! If I can direct your attention out the right side window of the bus, that wonderful smell you're getting is from Love's Bakery!Mmmm...all we need now is some hot coffee, some cream, sugar and we're good to go -- alright!!!"
"WTF?! That's what you woke me up for? The smell of bread? I freakin' smell that every morning, but you want to make mention of it now?! Ugh! Someone is in totally gonna get some CRACKS!"
A slight chuckle passes through the bus from the passengers. I gingerly open my eyes (because my thoughts are still in disbelief) to scowl more profoundly in the direction of the new driver. My internal voice begins to shout: "Don't encourage him! He has just one task and one task only -- to drive the bus! That's all. There's no commentary; this is not a tour bus, you are not a tour bus driver, we are not passengers on a tour. No! Absolutely not! Just do your job and drive the damn bus!"
..... to be continued
Saturday, December 25, 2010
My sister and her family have moved to Alaska. Alaska?! Her youngin's left late Christmas eve and have arrived early Christmas morning. It'll be a great Christmas for her and the family.
As for me and my family, we'll be spending it gathered around our nearly dried out Christmas tree, eating turkey, ham and some other good eats (hopefully none of which will be dried out). But it hasn't been all tinsel and glitter this Christmas and I can't really put my finger on why that is; my cousin has a theory about that thought. He thinks it has something to do with the fact that we haven't hung the lights up outside around the house. He's said it so frequently that I'm almost ready to believe him.
I guess I just haven't been in a Christmas frame of mind, even with all the colored lights and scented trees, but I am thankful for the blessings in my life: faith, family, friends, work. So, here's to Christmas: lights, tinsel and great smelling trees. For whatever it means to you and your family...best wishes always; and Merry Christmas everyone!
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
There are nay-sayers who believe that the simple act of pasting the image of a cartoon character is useless and has no meaning; they've posted blogs about our ridiculous "follow-the-leader" mentality. While I've never considered myself a mindless lemming, I thought the idea of profiling a cartoon image from my childhood to bring awareness to child abuse was a great idea, it was simple, easy and something that I (just one person) could do to show my good intentions; not too mention a little walk down memory lane of all the great things I had as a child and the things that helped to shape me as a person.
So, to all the nay-sayers, I think I can speak for most of us by saying that OUR intent is to bring AWARENESS, if only to ourselves; to bring to the fore front of our minds the hurt and pain of the most unspeakable kind that may have happened to one of us, or someone we know or countless others who have endured or continue to endure abuse of any kind.
Our actions will not change laws or policies, it may not change behavior or erase the memory of the harm caused by others, but yesterday I did nothing. Today, I posted an image of a cartoon character and searched the internet for other images that reminded me of my childhood -- and that made me smile; I also read a few blogs and comments that said, "Yeah, like this is gonna help end violence against children."
So, people of the FB world make your intentions known . . . have a conversation, post it on your blog, think good thoughts or say a prayer. Every little bit helps, you know it does.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
It was the day after the 4th of July and the beach was practically empty! I mean Makaha Beach on a 4 day weekend: no surfers, no canoe paddlers, no boogie boarders. Just a few scattered groups and with more than enough sandy beach to go around. So, we headed straight for the water, didn't even hesitate. It was cool, refreshing, water so clear you could see your feet touching the bottom. There was a lot of floating and drifting going on between the two of us.
Trayse loves the ocean as mush as I do. Our swimming abilities are about the same: dog paddle and floating. We both believe we could float on forever if we had to. Luckily no one's ever put that theory to a test.
The hardest part about being at the beach is leaving it . . . or rather getting Trayse to get out of the water. A bit of finagling had to happen; like telling Trayse wouldn't be cool to write her name in the sand? We had to do it a few times, the waves were not cooperating. But we finally got the shot!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
I've hung on to my self-justification for why I stayed mad, for why I couldn't reach my goals, for why I would not put down the burden. This is my personal revelation that the counsel "leave it alone" or "let it go" is often the most difficult to accept or execute, but it really is the only means to find inner peace and acceptance.
It brings to mind the story of a young man who found love, family and a new beginning. When tragedy knocked on his door with the loss of his wife, a new baby girl and a life now as a young, single father he directed his pain and anger toward the doctor who had failed to keep his wife alive. His grief festered and anger began to seep into every crack and crevice of his life.
One night a family friend called on this grieving, heartbroken young father. The words of comfort and counsel from the family friend was this: "John, leave it alone. Nothing you do about it will bring her back. Anything you do will make it worse. John, leave it alone."
The young father struggled with himself. He then decided that whatever else life brought to him, he would heed the counsel he was given.
Now, well into his years, the once heartbroken, young father related this story to a friend. "I was an old man, before I understood it!...I could finally see a poor country doctor--overworked, underpaid run ragged from patient to patient with little medicine, no hospital, few instruments, struggling to save lives, and succeeding for the most part. He had come in a moment of crisis, when two lives hung in the balance, and had acted without delay."
"I was an old man," he repeated, "before I finally understood! I would have ruined my life," he said, "and the lives of others."
Being able to leave it alone, or let it go takes practice and a lot of patience; two attributes that I often lack and need plenty of. But I recognize that it's a process of developing a whole new mindset...getting a better look at the whole picture instead of just snapshots. It can sometimes be a long, hard road before we reach that moment. Experience has shown me how my life becomes entangled when I refuse to leave it alone or let it go and I have felt the calmness in my life when I've chosen to follow John's example.