The "Sucks to Get Old" Drawer

Recently the time for a change came to the drawers that hold my regular/easy access grooming and personal care products. As much as I dreaded doing it, convenience dictated that I reorganize.

Moisturizer lost it’s place as one of the first products I sought while preparing for the day, and muscle rub took its spot.

The “I Feel Pretty” drawer became the “Sucks to Get Old” drawer.

Potions replaced lotions.

I don’t know if I am more upset that muscle ache relief became such a vital part of my life or that the skin care products upgraded to most of a shelf in my linen closet.

What I really dread is the day that the anti-achey stuff expands to the shelf in the linen closet.

Inspired NOT Stressed

One of the most eye-opening discoveries in my graduate school counseling preparation was that everything is stressful and has been assigned a point value by Holmes and Rahe  on their stress scale. Even events people regarded as positives in life carry degrees of stress based on the amount of adaptation a person has to do in their life routine to adjust to the event. They connected the measure of stress to a likelihood of physical ailment based on the number of “points” accumulated in a year’s time.

Since the mid-sixties when Holmes and Rahe’s research was published, stress has become the catch-all boogey-man for any type of inconvenience we have (such as performance expectations at work). It becomes the reason for mistakes and the low-quality work. These interpretations of Holmes and Rahe’s work completely misrepresent what they believed about stress: it is necessary for life. Our reactions to the stressor are where the harm lies. Some current research reminds us of that understanding.

WATCH: Turns Out, We May Have Gotten the Science of Stress Completely Wrong | TEDTalks:

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McGonigal cites a study that reported on the effects of the view of stress and health consequences, not the stressor itself. They re-discovered that our response to stress determines the likelihood of illness and even death. Holmes and Rahe assigned the points on their scale based on the general reaction people have to the event - not the event itself. That is why the birth of a child merited fewer points than the death of a loved one. Likewise, a promotion at work scores lower than losing a job. We generally experience less disruption to life with the first examples than the second.

Since discovering the work of Holmes and Rahe in graduate school, I have considered situations differently. I work in a stressful field - education. The challenges differ from school to school and some of them are entrenched and cultural. As long as they are challenges, I have the power to seek and implement solutions that may make them less challenging. When I call them stressors, I have given up seeking solutions.

I am glad that some are beginning to reframe the conversation around stress. For so many years so much misinformation spread so widely that if the number of times a lie was repeated changed it to the truth, then stress would be the villain. Replacing the false understanding of stress with a correct one faces an uphill battle at the start, but I believe it will be readily received: the old news about stress was a tale of weakness, but the new understanding is one of power! Shifting the conversation to our response to stress rather than the stress itself puts control over it within our grasp: we control how we react. We control the effects of stress.

We control our lives. There is no longer a reason to use stress as an excuse.

Summer Gardening

Summer has arrived in full force in central Texas. Yesterday when I got in my car after work, the temperature outside showed as 111O. In all honesty, it was only 97O, but sitting outside, in the sun, with no shade other than that of the lamp-posts, the car surface was probably 111O or higher.

That same heat taking a toll on my car’s thermometer is taking a toll on all my garden plants - especially those in pots. I watered most of the plants three days ago, but when I came home today, most of them appeared as if they had been in a years-long drought.

I planted them all from seed this spring, there is no way they know we have been in a years-long drought.

I even bought Miracle Grow Moisture Control potting soil.

Texas Heat 1 - Miracle Grow 0.

Some of my plants are growing like crazy and are leaving me wondering just how much eggplant and bell pepper I can eat in a year. Allrecipes.com lists some 240 recipes for eggplant, so I should be good.

Last year I made more gazpacho than I could eat. This year I cannot get my cucumbers to put on a single cuc. They tease me with thousands of blonde deceptions, but no fruit appears.

At least the squash have started to produce.

Maybe I should have planted okra this year. It does well in the heat.

Each summer having a garden is taking a chance that the weather will not be at its worst. The last few years; however, the weather has been at its worst. Despite the weather with its heat and drought that dash the best laid plans and the critters that nibble at my plants (and sometimes my feet), gardening is the second most hopeful thing that I do (my job as an educator is the most hopeful thing that I do). Every seed I drop into the ground contains the promise of bounty. A little help from mother nature and my faithful stewardship and that seed will produce foods far better than can be purchased at the store.

I do not know if the food is “really” better or if the sweat and effort make it seem that much better. Whatever the reason, I know I enjoy everything that comes from my garden.

And thanks to my new food vacuum-sealer, I do not have to enjoy it all right now.

Fresh is Best

Over the years watching cooking shows, the mantra, “fresh is best,” rang through every show. In all that time I have had a garden and have raised some of my own herbs and have used them from to improve the freshness of my cooking

The older I get, the more important good food is.

This spring, I focused on some of my favorite herbs along with the vegetables I most enjoy. They are doing better than I could have hoped.

Cilantro grows quickly.

I did not expect to use it as the dominant flavor of hummus, but today as I readied to process the garbanzo beans, the most available spice I had on hand was cilantro, Working it with garlic and pepper into the garbanzo beans resulted in one of the best hummus mixes I have created in the last nine years (since I started eating hummus). The flavors exploded in my mouth.

But what could I use to eat it with? Pita bread has been my favorite vehicle for eating hummus, but I did not have any on hand. I made a bread that included rice, wheat (white and whole), and oats. Combined with honey and beer, the flavors dominated the bread.

I decided to make a egg/oil spread with the same ingredients - garlic, salt, cilantro and pepper. I imagined a egg/oil spread to increase the browning of the bread. I ended up with a strongly flavored mayonnaise that spread beautifully across the rolled-out dough for the bread. Dashes of salt, garlic powder, and cayenne pepper were sprinkled across the mayo just moments before the bread was placed on the heated pizza stone. Within ten minutes, I the bread was cooked and ready to eat.

The sweet flavor of the bread matched with the spice in the baked-on topping led to surprising experiences in the mouth. Flavor came from every direction. There is the flavor on the tongue - and there is the flavor waiting in ambush.

In addition to the cilantro, my basil, rosemary, and oregano plants needed trimming so they would become more bushy and productive.  Because I was not doing any cooking with them, I put them directly in my food dryer for preservation. This morning I woke to a house fragrant with the smell of dried herbs.

Now to figure out what to do with the mint.

To-Do List Undone

         I have a hard time relaxing in the way most people define relaxing even when I have days off. For spring break I made a lengthy list of spring cleaning chores to do around the house. Everything necessary - weather, time, materials - lined up to make completion of the list a possibility. I came into the week mentally drained but physically charged. The physical labor is what I needed to relax following a stressful month.

The attractive results (flower beds and vegetable garden) of the labor were just an added bonus.

         Then I started unloading the gardening supplies.

         Doing anything on the list came to an immediate halt while I carried a 64 quart bag of potting soil. I turned to go around the corner of my house and felt pain shoot across my lower back and down my legs. I was not lifting. I was not lowering. I was just walking.

         This is the third time in just over a year that I have hurt my back. As much as I hate going to the gym, this is a wake-up call that I have to get in and work on my core strength. Like it or not, I am aging and I have to do more to take care of my body to keep it functioning the way I expect it to.

         Two days later I was still just sitting. Aspercreme, Aleve, Ibuprofen and a folded towel behind my back. Two days of anything but relaxation.

The worst thing about sitting around for over two days with a to-do list going undone is that that it only increases my stress level. I looked forward to the physical activity releasing my mental stress. Having my hands dirty and breathing the outdoor air does wonders for my mental state.

         The interruption does exactly the opposite.

         I have been able to fill the time reading, writing, and discovering there is absolutely nothing on television worth watching.

         I have found some professional Twitter discussions to join.

         I cannot just sit here and do nothing productive. Even if I am not completing the to-do list, I find options to replace it.

         My landscaping may be left wanting, but I am a few months ahead on my blog work (yes, I do some things in draft well in advance) and I am well into a couple books of professional reading. Considering those things I am finding some positive use for my time confined to the chair.

         Another positive to the time in the chair was that I healed more quickly than if I had tried to power through and do what physical labor I could. By the fourth day I was moving almost normally. I still winced from time to time as I made a move my body was not ready to make, but I was able to pack for a trip (I was able to make the trip after fearing for a few days that I would have to cancel) and leave the house somewhat orderly for my return.

         The garden to-do list remains undone. Here we have a very short spring before withering summer heat diminishes the productivity of most garden plants. Until it is complete, I am keeping my weekends free and I am avoiding anything over twenty-five pounds.

My World Record

Those who are easily grossed out should probably leave now.

         A few nights ago I attended a dinner party with some lifelong friends. Post-dinner conversation turned, as it almost always does to past exploits. As is the nature of “exploits” they generally happen in the teenage years and as we (the lifelong friends) were all boys sometimes involve unfortunate occurrences of bodily functions. All the years we were telling the stories, I missed out because I had no good story to tell.

 

         But all that changed tonight!

 

         I believe I set a world record!

 

         (You still have time to leave.)

 

         For the last week I have suffered a typical seasonal sinus infection. Congestion. Fever. General crappiness. I did everything I could to battle the infection to keep from getting so sick, but it did no good. Daily I was getting sicker and sicker. I took medications. I overdosed on allergy medications. I was doing the nasal rinse. I slept in my recliner to stay upright for maximum drainage.

 

         Still my breathing was stuffy and my fever increased. And I noticed the nasal rinse was not working – I could not force the water into my nose, no matter how hard I squeezed the bottle. Through the other nostril, it just ran back out as soon as I removed the bottle. There was no “rinsing” going on.

 

         After a particularly long hot shower tonight, I began to blow my nose to clear out what I could before I did the rinse (I find the rinses more effective after a steamy shower.) I blew out one side: typical results. I began to blow the other side and I felt something move inside but nothing came out. I took a deep breath and blew again. No air, just congestion and a lump gradually moving. Another deep breath. Blow.

 

         Suddenly a pop!

 

         (Last warning to leave.)

 

         On the floor of my tub was the world’s biggest booger! As big around as a quarter with a rough surface, (of course I picked it up to check it out!) it looked like a polymict conglomerate (type of sedimentary stone). I suspect it grew as various boogers joined together over the last few days until they became the massive boogerous boogeri that exploded out of my nose. If this were not the height or cedar-fever-season in Texas, I would have suspected it of being some kind of alien life form trying to drill into my brain through my nose (calling Dr. Who, McCoy, anyone else with alien knowledge).

 

         For a while, I pondered how I could preserve it until the Guinness folks had a chance to verify it was indeed the world’s largest. If I left it out, it would dry up and get smaller. If I put it in water or alcohol, it would likely dissolve. Not coming up with anything more creative, I finally flicked it down the drain. I could have gotten out of the shower and measured it or taken pictures, but I have never inspected any of my friends embarrassing body functions, they will just have to take my word for it.

 

         And amazingly, I started to feel better as soon as that infectious alien mass of mucous, blood, and dust cleared out of my breathing passages. Now I just have to make the story sound really good the next time we have dinner together!

I'm Not Dead Yet

I am not dead and I do not plan to die anytime soon.

Recently while doing some price comparisons online, I discovered some unexpected items from a popular membership warehouse store and so I shared it in a tweet (which is then shared as a Facebook status).

“Hmmmm...Costco sells urns...I think I found my eternal resting place - except for the parts of me to be turned into diamonds for loved ones” 

Yes, I want to be cremated.

And yes, there is a company that transforms cremains into precious stones ( Lifegem ). But given my choice of profession, I’m going to have to win the lottery to leave enough money for the cremains to be so transformed.

I’m sure this will dash the hopes of some who “liked” the status.

While I am not anticipating my death in the near future, the discovery of the urns came not long after one of my best friends confirmed that he would indeed kill me if the time came. I had asked him a while back if he would “off me” if I became incapacitated and unable to make the decision for myself, and of course, he wanted time to think about it.

I asked him after attending a seminar on estate planning. As a single person, medical power of attorney is one of the important decisions to make – finding the right person with the courage to make what may be unpopular decisions but ones that honor the wishes of the individual who finds him/herself unable to make the decisions. The lawyer presenting the seminar insisted that it be a friend, not a family member as relatives often have too many competing interests and are even more emotionally involved.

I settled on a life-long friend who knows more about me than even some family members and with whom I have had conversations about my wishes.

Despite the fears of some (and wishes of others) who saw the post, it is nothing more than one of those observations I make from time to time. However, I did find one that I really like. Like those who lay in caskets to make sure they are comfortable, I may purchase my own urn – a final statement of my personal style.

You Give Me Chills

This past weekend I was with a good friend who kept talking about his sore throat and swollen lymph nodes in his neck, and, indeed, the nodes under his jaw resembled those of people photographed for medical journals to demonstrate what mumps look like. But this is Austin and allergies cause this kind of reaction all the time.

The second day of it, he called me asking for Gatorade and orange juice because he was running a high fever. Maybe it wasn’t allergies, so I quickly took him the requested items.

Within a few hours, fever overtook me and chills set in. So began my three days with it. Turns out my neighbor behind me and his son had the same thing a week ago, so I guess it is something going around.

I always search for someone who will give me chills, but with this circumstance, I think I will pass.

Adjusted

At the pride festival last week, a booth for  a chiropractic service offered discounts on an evaluation and  first visit, so I signed up. I finally gave in to the nasal wash for my allergies and it worked out great; for over 10 years I have had a steady pain in my right shoulder, so I was looking for something to relieve it. Chiropractic is non-invasive and since nothing else has worked, why not give it a shot?

I came away from the first adjustment and the regular pain I had experienced, in one case for 10 years and one for four, was gone. We will see if this continues and what I end up feeling from it, but I am willing to try it our for a while and see if it helps me reach my overall fitness goals.

Will it help with that last 10 pounds?

Gettin' Fit

I have been whining about my weight and overall lack of fitness for some time. Unfortunately, whining does not burn many calories, so it has largely been an unsuccessful strategy. Paying gym dues has been equally ineffective.

On the spur of the moment though, I decided to register for a 5K race coming up in two weeks. I go for a run now and then, so I know I’ll be able to manage the 3.1 miles in a reasonable time - if I run every day between now and then and do some extra work on the coming weekend.

I really hate to sweat, but at this point, I hate being soft around the middle even more. The last two years of graduate school and work have not done me any favors as far as the weight and fitness go. I now weigh more than I have ever weighed. Fifteen pounds to go, though, and I will be back at a point where I can be happy. Hopefully a daily run for the next two weeks will put me on track toward that goal.

Now that I am done with grad school, I can actually use some of the time I regained to return to fitness. It’s on the list and now I need to put it on the calendar now that I have all my various calendar devises synchronized. I no longer have the excuse of time or the lack of organization to get it done.

No more conflicts!

No more excuses!

No more whining!

Resolution 2010

Last year I only made one resolution: take better care of myself. For the most part that resolution was successful. I have taken significantly better care of myself in emotional and spiritual ways; however, I have failed dramatically when it comes to physical care of my body. I began the year with that the primary focus of the three and ended the year realizing just how important it is.

Emotionally, I have realized that for many of the things that used to bug me to no end, I really do not care. Saying I simply do not care carries a harshness that is really most accurate. I do not care about pleasing all people all the time. I do not care if my every action does not fully ingratiate itself to others. I do not care if my time frame is different than yours. I do not care if your feelings were hurt by my honesty. Emotionally, I am going to take care of myself.

Spiritually, I began the year thinking I was most healthy in this area, but through the continued study of the Minor Prophets and then into the Apocrypha, I learned so much more about my own foundations in social justice and its roots in Biblical teaching. That combined with my selection for the AWAB council forced me to continue to grow in my thoughts about justice and the role of religion and my personal faith in those endeavors. The activities of the future continue to influence my thinking in this area as I read and study further what it is the Bible tells us about right treatment of all people.

Physically, though, I completely failed in any attempts to care for myself. I gained 20 pounds in the year. I have not exercised. I have not been careful with my eating. So for 2010, I have to be much more focused on my physical health. I have joined a gym, but I actually have to go. I have to spend the time preparing fully healthy meals all the time and not letting myself slip into settling for fast food because I don’t already have something prepared. Where I have given time to study, I now have to dedicate additional time to my physical health by exercising, eating well, and resting.

My resolution for 2010 continues my resolution from last year, but with the full focus of care for myself, and by caring for myself, I can do more to care for others.

Pain

The Apostle Paul made reference to the thorn in his flesh as a source of the suffering. For him, it was a constant reminder of the suffering of Christ and of his own persecution of the early Christians.

I am trying to be so noble.

During my visit with a doctor Wednesday morning, he informed me that as a result of the recent infection, I may be in pain for the rest of my life. Apparently following the swelling, some permanent nerve damage may have occurred.

My initial reaction has not been so gracious as Paul’s.

But I wonder if he was always so gracious or if the acceptance came after a time of learning, growth, and sheer frustration. Humans rarely choose suffering as the path we take. We seek comfort and security, and lessons from pain require time to be realized.

When I was first diagnosed with my chronic illness it took about a year before I came to accept or at least justify a purpose for it in my life. Fortunately, the illness has no daily repercussions beyond taking my medications on time daily. I do not “feel” anything though.

Pain is a little different though. It bites every time I move. It aches all the while I sit.

I do not want to make peace with it or accept it as a lifetime affliction.

Nevertheless, if the pain is to be a daily companion until my passing, then by golly, there better be a good lesson from it. Perhaps the biggest challenge I will have is coming to take the Apostle Paul as my guide. Some of his writings are used to justify the hate exhibited by so many of the most conservative Christians and I find myself drawn to the gospel of love presented by Christ.

 

Where in that conflict can I find my guide? Granted the prognosis for persistent pain only came today, but the pain has existed five weeks and the frustration with it has grown out of proportion to the pain over that time. Those who know me know I do not handle frustration well. I like order, answers, and certainty in my life and work even while I propose and ponder larger questions. It is one thing to think broadly but quite another to live broadly until the thoughts have somewhat gelled.

While the thoughts are still fluid though, frustration creates in me the sense that I may simply start to weep at any moment. The frustration is what I’m trying to move through now – and then I’ll be in a better place to deal with the rest.

Infections Still Suck

I have made enough progress that the doctor is not putting me in the hospital.

I asked him why my pain was worse and he replied "because you're getting better."

Something about that answer just was not satisfying, but after the doctor explained it all, it made sense, so I still love my doctor.

Tongue Depressors Expire and Infections Suck

I have spent way too much time in the doctor’s office when I start noticing that tongue depressors have expiration dates.

In the last month, I have had a skin biopsy, which resulted in a dermatological visit during which a skin cancer was cut/burned away. I have to admit that I do like the dermatologist because he has such a great sense of humor.

I had two medication follow-ups and was thrilled that all is good on that front.

But in the last five days I have been to the doctor three times with the first one leading to directions to go immediately to the emergency room. I’d only ever been to the emergency room twice before that I recall – once on a holiday weekend for a Benadryl shot due to an allergic reaction to a bee sting (an no store that was open had Benadryl), and another when I broke both my arms at the same time (a story unto itself).

This time was actually scarier – my doctor said go immediately.

The emergency room doctor diagnosed an infection – and five days later now, they still have not identified it and it has not responded to antibiotics. Today the doctor gave me two additional antibiotics and a two-day deadline for improvement or he is going to admit me to the hospital.

Fortunately, the high-strength painkillers have knocked the pain from being the most excruciating feeling I have ever had to merely a persistent low-throb. Unfortunately, that masked pain does not help me know how I am really feeling – it just keeps me in a mental haze that I do not like.

Hopefully within the two days there will be no more swelling and no more pain and I can get back to normal.

Side Effects May Include...

I have never been a fan of taking medicine, but I’m good about doing it. Whenever I am prescribed an antibiotic, I take it no matter how sick it makes me feel.

One of the highlights of taking any medication is the visit to the pharmacy where the pharmacist (or pharm-tech) reads the script at the little side window that provides absolutely no privacy. I know I heard what the person said to everyone ahead of me, so I know everyone after me is going to hear what he has to say to me. At least they don’t usually name the diagnosis.

Last week I went to the pharmacy to pick up some meds. The doctor and I decided it was time for me to start taking medicine over a month ago, but he gave me some options to explore about which drug or combination of drugs I would take. After reading all about them, talking to people I know who were taking them, and some serious soul-searching, I decided on the meds I wanted.

Two days after the prescription was called in the drugs were ready for me to pick up. Since it was a new prescription, I got to have a conference with the pharmacist – despite the volumes of research I had already done.

He goes into the first medication and reads his script about common side effects – nausea, dizziness, rash – all the usual suspects.

He goes to the next prescription and reads his script about side effects – and gets to some for which I am to call the doctor immediately. They include nausea, dizziness, and rash!

He kept a straight face!

Of course, the pharmacist’s script leaves of some of the side effects one can read about if one reads all the information available.

One of my meds has possible side effects that range from rash to sudden death.

I was driving today and a friend could hear that I was driving and asked me what I thought about operating a vehicle – he knew of the possible sudden death I could be facing any day now.

I assured him that I didn’t have a problem with driving.

He replied, “Well, you’ll be dead, so I guess a crash wouldn’t matter to YOU!”
I kept driving.

I’m not going to let a medicine’s the side effects stop me any more than I’ve let disease.

It’s Getting Cold in Here!

Recently I had one of the kinds of experiences that actually make a man go to the doctor. And so I went. I had done all my checking on Webmd and other sites – just so there would not be any surprises. I actually walked into the doctor and diagnosed myself.

He did not buy it.

He did not trust my research.

He wanted tests.

He wanted me to get an ultrasound.

All I could think was, "that is gonna be cold!"

And to be sure I did not get cold feet, before I could even get to the office to make the call for an appointment, the radiology clinic called to schedule my appointment later in the day. I really was not prepared for later in the day. I would have done some additional grooming before I left the house that morning. Nevertheless, I gave in and took one of the later appointments.

Might as well get it over with.

So after an uncomfortable day at work thinking only about what was to come, I made my way over to the clinic for the test. I had been given specific directions and followed them to the letter.

I knew the event was going to be cold, so in my mind I was praying the technician would be a straight man or a woman. I wanted to be careful of any impression I might make on any potential date – no matter how remote the chance would be.

Despite following the directions to the letter, as I sat and waited to be called back, my appointment time came and left. And left farther behind. Finally the manager came over to apologize and let me know they were still running far behind, but promised it would not be too much later before I was called back.

Fifty minutes after my scheduled appointment, I was jolted by someone calling my name. I had been there so long I almost drifted away from listening for my name. I turned around to see a sizable woman standing in the door smirking.

She directs me back a room much larger than I was expecting with an adjoining restroom. With her in the room is a VERY young girl.

Just my luck. I got the intern!

She lays out a gown, a paper sheet, and some plain hand-towels and gives me specific directions on how to prepare myself with exactly what was to be covered and what was to be exposed. They then stepped out of the room and allowed me to prepare and position myself. I just wanted to get it over, so it didn't take me long to prepare. Waiting for her to return, I found myself again drifting away mentally.

Just as I was getting comfortable in my happy place, the door opened and the larger woman returned. She asked permission for the intern to come in as well as she had never seen this particular procedure before.

What could I say? I'm laying on a bed with just the jewels exposed.

"Sure. Of course she can come in!"

The intern sheepishly returns to the room and I found myself wanting to say something to make her feel more comfortable, but what are the appropriate words to say to someone who can only stare at the two inches of bare skin exposed?

The larger woman turns off all the lights so only the monitor and a single yellow light in the ceiling brighten the room. She reaches over and shuffles through several large tubes and said, "This one's warm. It's gonna get wet down there."

Sploosh.

And then comes the cold wand and it begins to slide around the area covered by the warm gel.

For some reason, the large woman thinks now is the time to start making gel jokes. I guess they are ones that make the rounds of the ultrasound world since the young girl was taking notes.

A few more splooshes and corny jokes about gel and how many towels she's gonna leave me to use to clean up and all is done. She and the young 'un step out while I wipe off and get dressed again.

By this time, I was even more ready to leave than I had been upon walking in.

Two days later, my doctor's nurse gives me a call to let me know I am going to be fine.

My doctor has a great sense of humor.

My diagnosis was right all along!

Vicks Trick

There is an old home-remedy that I have found to work exceptionally well in the last few days. For those with allergies or a cold that causes you to cough uncontrollably, get some Vicks VapoRub and rub it on the bottom of your feet and then wear socks. For me it works especially well at night. However, if your partner, spouse, or hook-up has a foot fetish, you may want to give them a warning.

I don't know why it works, but it has almost stopped my coughing. With all the drainage, I still cough some, but it is nothing compared to the non-stop hacking I had been doing.

I do not do what my grandfather used to do and that is heat it to a liquid and drink a teaspoon full. I just have not been able to bring myself to do that.

My New Workout

If I could be fit and toned just by thinking about being fit and toned, I'd be Adonis. The truth is, I don't like to sweat; I don't mind hard physical work, I just don't like to sweat.

The lack of sweat makes it hard for me to get into the physical activities necessary to keep me in shape and my muscles toned. I actually enjoy jogging and wish I lived closer to the great trails here in Austin; were I to run in my neighborhood, the pit-bulls would make short work of me. I have run half-marathons before and survived the sweat, and in my fantasy-fit world, I'll run marathons. I just have to overcome that dislike of perspiration.

As the weather had changed and become generally cooler - highs lower than 90 degrees - allergy season has begun and I'm discovering it may be the answer to my no-sweat workout fantasy. Since the allergies kicked in, I've been coughing non-stop - so much that I didn't sleep the first three days. The coughing has been working my abs more than hundreds of sit-ups. If the ragweed does not clear up soon, I expect to come out of this with a six-pack and without shedding a drop of sweat.

As much as my stomach hurts, I'm surprised this has not been written about in fitness journals. Since I have not been able to find anything about it in the magazines, I should have taken before pictures so I could show off the new-found abs in an after picture beside it.

Maybe I could develop designer nasal sprays with the allergens that make people cough the most. They could make a trip to their allergist, find out what they need and then order online! A few weeks of stuffy misery and you are ready for that new swimsuit. The best part is you don't have to wait for the season to come around - you can have your allergies anytime you want them.

I could retire young and wealthy and known as a fitness guru.

Really, how much worse could custom allergens be than the custom steroids being brewed to stay just ahead of the testing systems?

Britney Does Matter

I’m so bad.

Our local Fox station just started carrying the TMZ tabloid show.

I am hooked.

Normally, I don’t give a damn about celebrity status and all that is happening in their world. Their profession is built around a world that does not really exist and their personal lives seem to be caught up in that fake life. Why should I care?

But then there is Britney.

My first date with a guy was with Britney Queers.

Rumor tells me he’s no longer a guy.

But Britney is still Britney. At least kind of.

For the sake of Britney as a person, I’m worried. Concerned. Scared.

Those who know me know I’m not one to make one of the impassioned, tearful “Brit Boy” or whatever his name is video pleas to spare Britney. I’ve never been a big fan as evidenced by the fact that I had to look up the correct spelling for “Britney” when I started writing. She is (was) an exciting performer though her voice was largely manipulated, but she never reached a status of anything more than novelty with me.

And then there was the MTV debacle.

Professionally I have a background in mental health – I’ve been a counselor.

When I finally saw “the performance” the clarity that Britney’s problems go far beyond bad-girl behavior or substance-induced missteps. Britney’s eyes speak volumes more than Nora Desmond could ever hope. I know I don’t know enough to make even an educated guess as to what is exactly wrong with her, but I do know enough to know there is something wrong with here at a deep emotional level.

Sadly, we have a hard time addressing mental illness. The tabloids and entertainment television shows thrive on the mental illness of so many celebrities. Public policy, the health care system, and cultural norms do not treat mental health with the same urgency as physical health, and make it ok for emotional issues to stay the butt of public humor.

Admittedly, mental illness can be hard to understand. Something shielded behind the fortress of the skull and hidden within the folds of the brain can be hard to grasp. It’s not a broken bone protruding from the skin or a cancerous tumor sucking out the life of the healthy body. Mental illness cannot be cut out and held in one’s hand, but it is no less real than that tumor.

Britney’s partying and bad behavior mask so much of what is going on, but if you look in her eyes, there is so much more than the influence of the substance of the day. Look at Britney’s eyes from her early videos – clearly there was no “A” student in there (that’s a McAfee Daniel story sometime), but there was a live person inside. Lately the look has been different.

It saddens me that the prospect of Britney getting the help she needs anytime soon remains unlikely. She will continue to be fodder for jokes and sarcastic headlines. Mental illness will continue to be acceptably funny, and mental health will continue to be largely ignored.

The Reward of a Job...

...well done is supposed hold its own satisfaction. I suppose that holds some truth, although, I'm not certain it holds any kind of certainty. I've worked my butt off for the last few months and it has not all led to what I expected. Some of it, in fact, has been so frustrating that the dream I had last night was so real, I'm wondering if my calling is not to change jobs and go back to teaching.

I do miss the classroom, but despite the frustrations of my current position, I have to say that more than the satisfaction of a job well done is a life well lived. Today I had my quarterly doctor's visit and for the second time, after an incredibly stressful period, rather than the stress taking a toll on my body, my bloodwork came back better than before.

Sadly, to the converse, when I've been relaxed and comfortable, my blood tests have not been so good.

It is an ironic pick your poison: do I want to go by a heart attack or HIV?

With a heart attack it would be fast, but I worry if my co-workers could find all my notes to finish the projects I'm working on (hint- check the floor of my home office). Yes, even in death, I think I would worry about the ease with which my replacement could follow me.

Thanks to the advancement in medicines, HIV would likely be slow to progress. My major fear is that it does make that blood/brain leap and I begin to experience AIDS Related Dementia. I have not found the appropriate accomplice for assisted suicide, but I would have a diagnosis as AIDS Related Dementia as a criterion for someone assisting me.

The other fear is that I waste away slowly and leave an ugly corpse, but that's just vanity, and ego is no excuse for assisted suicide.

So in the meantime...

I keep working on the stress-filled life well lived.