Category Archives: health

Showing signs of happiness

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A few days ago I attended a business meeting and encountered a woman I haven’t seen since I left my old job last May.  Our hotel properties used to be side by side so we had a fairly regular occasion to bump into each other but I haven’t seen her since I began my new job.  We exchanged the usual pleasantries, took our seats and the meeting began.  After an hour of brainstorming, the session adjourned and we were able to chat a little more and catch up.

We, of course, commiserated with each other about the roller coaster of weather we have been experiencing this year.  We talked briefly about how the hospitality business has been for each of us this season and then the conversation changed completely.

She looked at me quizzically and said, “I’m not sure if this will come out the way I mean it to, but your face looks so much lighter.”

It was an odd statement, certainly, but one I have been hearing more frequently.  It wasn’t in reference to my pallid winter flesh color nor was it meant to infer anything about weight loss.  She simply observed my happiness.

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(image credit: myvintagejewelbox.com)

When she had seen me last, I was working at a job that I no longer enjoyed.  The stress that I faced each day was etching itself into my face and I looked, and felt, like a different person.  It was a tough decision leaving that job because it had once been a place I considered to be a second home and my fellow employees were like family.  When that home was bought by a corporation, the feel of my job evolved into something foreign. It was no longer a warm and inviting place to be and, although I had to leave some great people behind, I made the tough choice to get happy again.

I was fortunate enough to be able to make the decision to be happy, and if my face is any indication, I made the right choice.

Instant idiot, just add alcohol

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This post was inspired by a weekend that happened at my former place of employment.  I’m not sure why this memory surfaced, perhaps because hiring season has begun, but I heed to the advice of my muse.

Our resort hosted a few bus loads of college students, or perhaps a more appropriate definition would be potential future employees.  These eager young scholars were taken on overnight excursions from resort to resort to see what working life would be in their chosen field of hospitality.  The direct result of this adventure was more of an extended recess than a field trip.

There is a reason that the LCBO and multiple organizations urge us to drink responsibly.  After a few too many, we become abhorrent mutations of our former selves and lose all sense of discipline and self-control.  The “White Elephant in the Room” campaign is meant to draw attention to drinking and driving.  Perhaps we should also have a campaign for drinking and being an idiot.   For now, let’s call it the “Saturated Moron” campaign.

I’m not going to lie and tell you that I have never over-imbibed but only once have I ever lost control of the person I have strived to become.  And even in that moment (that I am not so proud of) I have never left an impression of myself that created any ill will, any harm or caused any negative feelings.  With the advancement of technology today we have more than a fair shot of seeing our misgivings pop up on websites like YouTube, Instagram, Twitter and Facebook but that doesn’t seem to be enough of a deterrent for those afflicted with the “soak me in booze until I’m flammable” syndrome.

There are certain things to keep in mind when you are beginning a night out with friends and alcohol will be involved.  If you think you become more attractive when you’re hammered, you do not.  If you feel you can dance like a professional, this is untrue.  And if you think your friends won’t take every opportunity to humiliate you and make sure there is photographic evidence of your drunken shenanigans, think again.

Obvious health reasons aside, when we drink too much we simply make bad choices.  Perhaps the first bad choice was to drink to excess in the first place.  The thing to remember is what has been done cannot be undone.  People have very long memories when it comes to things you have done in a drunken stupor and they will do their best to never let you live it down.  Undoubtedly, they will take every opportunity to replay the videos or repost the images of your misfortunes during your intoxication.

Drinking to excess can cause you to black out and have no recollection of the events of the previous evening.  Be assured, it will either come back to you in small scenes like a movie trailer that you can’t seem to stop or in one horrific flashback that you wish you could eradicate from your memory.

These hospitality pupils failed to maintain any sense decorum during their visit because alcohol, which began the night as the co-pilot, swiftly took over the driver’s seat and all Hell broke loose.  The resort showed the battle scars the following morning as toilet paper dripped from the trees.  Broken glass could be seen littering the ground at every turn and a window was broken as the hooligans attempted to gain access to any snacks that may be hiding in the front office.

I can only imagine the fetid stench emanating from the bus windows on that long, torturous ride back to school.  My sympathy to the driver who may still be in therapy a year and a half later.  I’m sure the simple message about drinking to excess was lost on these poor, hung over souls but there was one directive that rang loud and clear that morning – I would not be hiring, or even recommending, any of those students for future employment.

Taking my own advice

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I give excellent advice – to anyone other than myself.  I have many people ask my opinion and they feel very comfortable getting into very personal matters.  They trust my discretion and they know my words come from a place of empathy and understanding.  I’ve had many people over the years tell me that I should have been a Social Worker.  I have a great ability to listen and to give thoughtful and meaningful opinions or just listen when necessary.

I’ve learned over the years that I can dish it out, but I can’t take it – my own advice, that is, but today I listened to my gut and went to the walk-in clinic.  I know I’m sick when I willingly sit in a waiting room with a multitude of people with the same symptoms I have for a chance to feel better.

After the obligatory three hours between waiting room, exam room and lung test I was given my diagnosis as well as a prescription for some very strong antibiotics.  My seemingly benign flu had morphed into Pneumonia and the doctor was concerned that I had a lung infection as well.  A simple test proved that the lung infection was non-existent but Pneumonia is a big enough hurdle to jump over.

Learning to trust my gut when it comes to personal matters is going to be on the forefront of my goals for the new year.  I didn’t, and still don’t, feel as sick as I am but I’m certainly glad I followed some sage advice today and got myself to the clinic for a professional diagnosis.  I would have told everyone else to get to the doctor, but it took a nudge from a friend or two to take the advice I would have freely expelled to anyone else and get the help I needed.

If you are great at giving advice….take a moment and see if you are following your own wise words.  It was a good lesson learned for me today.

Strong work ethic and stronger cough medicine

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The rattling sound in my chest is an inescapable reminder that I am still sick.  That coupled with the fact that I could pass for James Earl Jones on the phone have steered me from my objective of getting back to work and led me right back to my couch.

I have never in my working life called in sick to just have a day off.   I would never have been able to enjoy a day knowing that my colleagues were doing extra duties to cover my work load because I had lied about my health to have a day of leisure.  Even when I am sick, I have a hard time not going to work.  But this time I didn’t have a choice – this flu kicked my butt.

I worked a few hours on the morning of the 30th and went back in for a few hours on the 31st but my road paved with good intentions quickly became the road home and I spend the next two and a half days curled in the fetal position in my living room praying for the coughing to stop.  I’m not a whiny sick person but whatever this bug was proved that even the strongest people can revert to child-like behavior when they don’t feel like themselves.

Today, after feeling a tremendous amount of guilt for missing so much work, I dragged myself out of bed and made a valiant effort to forget that I am still sick.  I was shocked to open the door to a temperature of -34C.  After only a few seconds of vehement debate, my car turned over and I was on my way to the lodge.  I was greeted warmly by my coworkers until I opened my mouth and spoke a few words.  Their smiles turned to looks of fear and, as they backed further away from me, they all told me to go home.

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As much guilt as I feel for not being able to perform my job, my bosses and fellow employees made me see that I was doing them more of an disservice by being there and possibly spreading my germs.  Although I am past the contagious stage, I quickly heeded their advice and am now curled up on my couch once again with three layers of blankets and a hot cup of tea.

On a side note:  I should have realized how severe this flu was when I discovered I haven’t had coffee in four days!!

Not what I thought it was going to be

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The welcoming of 2014 was not the night I had anticipated.  The beef was waiting in the fridge, the wine was holding its place in the wine rack and I was curled up on the couch nursing a glass of water and a nasty chest cold with a temperature of 103F.

I woke up on December 30th after not showing any sign of illness the previous night and a few hours after getting out of bed, I hit a wall.  I spent four short hours at work and was sent home.  Being the diligent employee I am, I attempted to perform my daily duties again the next day and sent myself home.  I have spent the last three days sleeping, coughing, sipping water and not eating a thing.  Today was the first day I attempted some food so I can start getting my energy back.

It seems I have a lot of catching up to do on my blog reading, but I just wanted to wish you all a very Happy new year and all the best for 2014!

You are not a tree

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I am fortunate to be able to say that I am happy with my life.  I enjoy my job and the people I work with, I love my little house and the privacy it affords me and I love living in Muskoka.  Not everything in my life has been picture perfect but that awareness empowers me to alter the things in my life that are not working and follow the path that I envision for myself.

So many people I encounter don’t seem to have the same luxury of being able to say they are content in their own lives. They seem to radiate negative energy and the lessons that are presented in their lives become more of a burden than a learning experience.  The “glass half empty” attitude fills the room and stifles any potential for that glass to be filled again.

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With the impending shift in the calendar, the welcoming of a New Year and possible making of resolutions, we have to remember that we are not trees.  We are not rooted so deeply into the soil of our lives that we are unable move and make a change.  We are not permanently stuck in one spot for the rest of our lives, able to only move in one direction.  We are afforded the freedom of being able to make a change in our lives whenever we feel the desire to alter our destiny.  It may be a daunting task to uproot yourself and start over but, when you flip to the other side of that coin, what could be the lesser of the two evils?  With change always comes doubt but happiness will always trump fear.

Give yourself permission to do whatever it takes for you to be happy.  Put down some roots but if the place you have planted yourself smothers your potential for growth, dig up the roots, plant yourself again and start over.  You have to give yourself the opportunity to flourish and, if that means beginning again in a different location, trust that your happiness is worth the effort and do whatever it takes to find that perfect place.

Plant your feet and blossom but leave room to uproot, branch out and grow.

Requesting a favor

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Hello to all of my blogging, Facebook and Twitter friends.  I am appealing to you for a bit of help.  I have started a new blog for Shamrock Lodge (my new job) and would love and appreciate it if you could check it out and follow if you could.  The more exposure we get, the longer I get to keep my job.  😉

Here is a picture of where I get to go every day to work, and below is the link to the new blog site.

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Shamrock Lodge

Focusing on the positive

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The last couple of days have been stressful, to say the least.  My puppy and I are still currently residing in one of the rooms at the lodge where I work and there is still some work to be done at my house before it is safe to move back in and have the power restored.

It’s been frustrating and I feel, in a way, like I have been taking advantage of my employers (they assure me otherwise).  I have spoken to a least eight Hydro One employees to try to rectify my situation and, after several trips circling the drain and not getting a straight answer, I think we finally have it sorted out.

But as I sit here in a warm room with the football game on the television, I realize that things could have been much worse.  My house could have burned down and I could have been left in the cold with no roof over my head or friends to lend me shelter.  Life really is about focusing on the positive.

I went for a walk this morning with my puppy and the blue sky and sunshine helped to clear any of the remaining negative thoughts that may have been residing in my brain – remnants of my adventures this weekend.  The cloud in the picture below hovered above us and the way the sun shone on the small formation at the top, it illuminated the shape to look like Pac-Man.  That ethereal icon continued to eat his way through the clouds until nothing was left but an expansive view of pure blue sky.  Only a strange ghost-eating fragment of my youth could have been the catalyst that made me focus on the good.  It made me see the positive which was otherwise temporarily masked by a shroud of looming clouds.

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The sky in my mind once again matches the blue of the sky outside.  Once I remembered to focus on the good things in my life, the rest of it all but washed away.

Stage Six of Seven

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img-seniors-hands-typing-at-keyboard

My fingers hover over the keyboard.  I can’t remember why.   I look at unfamiliar walls.  If I was meant to type my name they will be sorely disappointed.  I don’t know that either.

~

Written for the Trifextra Weekend Challenge – I am terrified of losing the ability to coax words and memories from my brain.  Alzheimer’s Disease scares me to death.

(On now to our quick little Trifextra prompt.  Katherine Paterson, author of  Bridge to Terabithia, wrote, “It’s like the smarter you are, the more
things can scare you.”  We are looking for a 33-word explanation of what scares
you (or your character).  We already know you’re intelligent, so, according to
Paterson, you should have no shortage of potential subject matter.)

(image credit: wiserusability.com)

Needles and the damage done – fiction

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I will apply dietetic measures for the benefit of the sick according to my ability and judgment; I will keep them from harm and injustice. ~excerpt from the Hippocratic Oath

***

Danny Jenkins could not shield his discomfort.  Lying on the gurney in the hospital hallway was exacerbating, even more so considering the paper-thin sheet was barely enough to disguise his torso from the sight line of people passing by.  His Intravenous line had almost been yanked out of his skin several times as crash carts and trauma teams raced to the Emergency room.  He was living in his own personal Hell.

Danny hated hospitals.  The mere fact that he agreed to this procedure was beyond his realm of comprehension but it was time to face reality.  At his last weigh in he had tipped the scales at 468 pounds and it was time to get his life back.  His doctor had pleaded with him to consider Gastric Bypass surgery and he knew it was the only way to forge ahead into the life he dreamed for himself.

After what seemed like an eternity, Danny was wheeled from the hallway into the operating room.  Faceless doctors and nurses shrouded by masks performed their macabre pre-surgery dance around him as monitors came to life and created a sinister orchestra of metallic sounds.  Voices abraded his ears as they went step by step through the procedure that was about to take place but Danny paid no attention.  He didn’t care.  He just wanted to go to sleep and wake up to his new beginning.  A warm sensation began to flood his veins and Danny slowly slipped into a reversible loss of consciousness.

***

He could hear the pinging of the machines as his eyelids fluttered open and the recovery room slowly swam into focus.  He anticipated mild to moderate discomfort in his abdominal cavity but he felt none.  The anesthesia must have been a more potent cocktail than he imagined.  He tried to adjust his position on the bed, fully expecting his stomach to refuse any agitation, and the movement was somewhat fluid and manageable.  Strangely, there was no soreness at all.  

The call button hung lifelessly on the bed rail and he repeatedly pushed the button until a nurse entered the room.  Before even engaging Danny in post-surgery banter she glanced at his hospital wrist-band, diligently checked all of the monitors and made notes in the chart that hung from the foot of his bed.  She lifted the bedding from the bottom of the bed, inexplicably checked his legs and tenderly replaced the covers.

“How are you feeling?”, she finally asked.

Danny spoke through his dry mouth, “I thought this would feel much worse.”

Her response baffled him.  “You will think you can feel your toes for a while.  They call it phantom pain.”

His look of complete bewilderment took her by surprise.  She guessed his silence was just his way of processing his loss.  She regarded the monitors one more time before leaving with the promise of returning with ice chips.

As the anesthesia began to clear his system he began to feel the after effects of the four-hour surgical procedure.  He could feel the dull ache beginning to throb but the pain was coming from his knee.  More than slightly disconcerted he reached for the call button once again.  This time a doctor entered and performed the same ritual with the monitors before beginning his communication.  Immersed in the chart in front of him, he absently began to speak.

“Okay Ms. Jenkins.  The procedure went extremely well and the lower part of your right leg was successfully amputated.  You will feel some discomfort but you have the ability to give yourself a dose of morphine……”.  His voice trailed off as he lifted his head and his vision of the patient in front of him finally swam into focus.  He looked directly at Danny and immediately re-examined the chart in front of him.  The doctor said nothing more.

Danny finally spoke,  “Did you just call me ‘Miss’ Jenkins?”

“Would you excuse me for just a moment?”, the doctor’s words were rushed as he left the room.  Danny incessantly pushed the call button with no response.

The doctor’s footsteps echoed through the hallway as he raced to the operating room.  As he pushed the doors open and entered the sterile room all eyes turned and fell heavily upon him.  Ms. Dani Jenkins lay sedated and poised for Gastric Bypass surgery.  Not one medical practitioner had commented on the unnecessary procedure but merely followed the direction on the chart – the wrong chart.

His words reverberated in the surgical chamber, “Look very closely at that medical chart.  You were about to make the second biggest mistake in the history of this hospital.”