Tag Archives: health

this halftime is show brought to you by astrazeneca and cheerwhine


on september 16th, six weeks ago today, i expounded on the wisdom of listening carefully to your body and responding promptly to his or her cries for help. omg, what a NAG! six weeks later and she’s still barkin’ at me like crazy! she wouldn’t even shut up during the world series game last night. she found something or other to chirp me about through all 11 innings.

the problem with the voice of my body…besides the shrillness of her whiney cries…is that she gets all my other voices excited too. all the demons are in there, already juiced for halloween, perfectly willing to tailgate behind body-girl’s truck and her shrieking PA.  so the debbie-downers are in there bitching and moaning about weak drinks and the wind, the carrie-carriers are watching everything i do singing a constant refrain of they’re all gonna laugh at you, and below that is the din of a competitive whining club jockeying for my attention.

i need noise cancelling headphones. that work on the inside. maybe AstraZeneca can help me if they are too expensive.

so i launched my business yesterday, i think…maybe that was a delusional vicodin dream. hardheadcopy.com. nope! it’s still there! yay! i even got a bite (that’s what friends and family are for, right? aren’t they at the top of every cookie, popcorn, pie or candy fundraiser form? do you really think it’s that different once you are grown?) since i published the site and actually told folks about it, the cacophony of jeers from my internal peanut gallery has been relentless…splintered only by those incessant, pervasive internal cheerleaders that somehow survived this tomboy’s mutilation efforts. thank God for them…i never really understood the point of cheerleaders, unless you were one or dated one, but i’ve caught wind of some intrinsic value…and it’s not just a breeze passing through vapid ear canals, i checked.

i don’t have much point here today other than to say that sometimes you have to acknowledge that you can’t hear shit above all the ruckus in your head and the fear in your heart…and then do it anyway, whatever “it” is. i’ve finally stopped trying to argue all the negativity away. when i hear the “what if’s” and “but your gonna’s” and “how will you’s” lately, i just say (think) say what you want, demons, reason, whoever you are…i don’t care, i’m doing it anyway.

maybe that’s practice doing its thing…i know my parents and close friends and loves have heard me bark that last part a few times. they will definitely vouch for my lifelong dedication to doing it anyway.

i need to heal today. maybe grab some new business in a few hours. take some painkillers. know that i’ll recover eventually. go get my daughter from her crib where she’s been conversing with me by monitor for the last ten minutes. in other words, life goes on (that is, if you hear the nagging for what it is and tend to it! – true for both bodies and spouses), and life is good…warts, infections and all. man that makes me sound gross. i don’t actually have any warts at the moment (and no that’s not a hint for my christmas list).

live, hurt, cry, laugh, succeed, fail, eat, drink and sleep…in no particular order…and you have a day. one at a time. fear, psychic pain and self-loathing have virtually no power in the moment…take the tomorrows and yesterdays out of their mouths and they find little to complain about. and as for physical pain…that’s what opiates are for.

happy weekends, readers. life is a dream when you walk with yours…even if it’s hard to keep up.




an organic liquid fire…a class B extinguisher i think? shoots wine and pills…


i think i’ve developed a new phobic condition, undocumented so far in my obsessive research in search of a single case in the general population. like most phobias, its genesis is woven throughout some of the oldest images in my life tapestry. see, i spent a lot of time as a kid, and later as an adult, with some significant and long term health problems. some were obvious, some more mysterious, some likely the culmination and interaction of lots of different dis-eases i stumbled through from childhood on. i suffer little anymore, my toddler seems to have cured a few ailments, and my days of being a “sick person” seem like a different lifetime.

still, as a result of that experience, i’ve developed a phobia regarding hypochondria. now, there are tons of articles and mentions of hyphochondria as a phobia or non-phobic obsession. it’s characterized by a recurrent or consistent fear of catastrophic illness, real or perceived. that’s not what i’m talking about. i’m talking about a phobic fear of becoming a hypochondriac, or even being perceived as one. call me crazy (it’s a big club), but if you know what i mean, you know what i mean. if you’ve ever been a medical mystery for a doctor who would rather make you feel crazy than be wrong, you can probably relate.

and so my whine elucidates its fundamental source, the rock of ages from which the purest drips of my soul drop into moods of all colors, shapes and sizes. i would think that this particular brand would no longer fool me with its tired disguise. i’ve come to the following realization some countless number of times in my life, so why is it still capable of presenting as a sneaky little surprise? i can remember specifically at least three separate occasions where i told myself, if you find yourself feeling this uncharacteristically whiney for no obvious reason, and become a drippy, drawling, mewling complainer who assigns Hal-like intellect and intention to your household trashcan and annoys even yourself…you are getting sick. 

simple enough. the life i thought was going so well just days ago is actually going well. the happy drugs i really need are some simple, old-school antibiotics. i’m once again reminded to listen to my body instead of my mind especially when my body is screaming, UTI! and my mind’s best argument is, nah, you don’t have time for that right now and it could be something else that’s causing three days of fire pee. sorry for the TMI, but the mere absurdity of my internal argument compells me to share.

i’ve ignored this out of a sense of obligation to other things, boredom with the idea in general and some hesitance about my lack of a GP since moving. i’ve ignored it until it’s making me queasy and bringing on a headache. i’m grateful for MinuteClinic and hoping they treat this kind of thing, but there are plenty of places for me to address this issue. my excuses are thin and easily overcome. thankfully this type of illness doesn’t preclude weekend company nor ask that company to risk life or general well-being to entertain me. thankfully i’m an ol’ pro at these…an amazing 37 years experience under my belt…so i can treat, fix and weather them well.

but really, how silly can i be? my whole morning resonates with one big, well, DUH! once again i’m amazed at how capable i am of ignoring what i don’t want to address. i can’t figure out if, overall, it’s helped or hindered me in this life. i mean, sometimes things you ignore do just go away. i’ve seen it. and by the power vested in me by myself, i thought i could command those little bugs right out of reality. out germ! out of my nether regions! out of my imagination! i thought i banished them, sent them off to swim in the Eternal Vat of Imaginary Wine i pretend to drink on this blog. (i swear i really don’t drink that much and that it’s NOT why i get UTIs or kidney stones. i don’t mean to be misleading…i treat all forms of alcohol with equal reverence and try to maintain a healthy balance between them.)

so, pee in a cup, i will. smile over a cup after my recovery, i will. listen to my body as soon as it starts complaining instead of waiting for my mouth to say it louder, i will. rest up a bit, i will. and save the rest of my words for a more creative moment, i will.