Day 3425: Brain damage

Yesterday, at an urgent care clinic, a doctor tried to convince me to go to a hospital emergency room to get a CAT scan for possible brain damage.

My brain was surprised by this because I had come to the urgent care clinic suspecting wrist and ankle damage after taking a rather spectacular fall on my daily walk, which was preceded by this tweet:

I’m not showing any signs of brain damage there, am I?

Anyway, because I’m on the blood thinner Coumadin, almost immediately after the fall giant bruises were appearing at all the points of contact I’d had with the ground. My brain was undamaged enough to call my Coumadin nurse, Veronica, before everybody left for the long weekend. Veronica suggested I go to an urgent care clinic to see if the damage included any hairline fractures.

My son Aaron wanted to know if he should cancel our plans to go out to dinner with his friend Clark, who would be arriving soon, but I didn’t want to damage everyone’s evening, so I said “no.”

At the urgent care clinic, they x-rayed my left wrist, right wrist, and my right ankle and found no fractures. Even though I had walked the half-mile back home without pain, my right foot was now so sore that they gave me a walking boot. They said the ankle damage could be a sprain or just internal bleeding because of the Coumadin.

Then, just when I was thinking I had escaped serious damage, a doctor came in all concerned about brain damage and quoted this poem to me:

He bumped his head and went to bed,

And he couldn’t get up in the morning.

That got my brain’s attention, because I always want to get up in the morning. I thought the doctor was mainly concerned about brain damage because I had described hitting the side of my head very slightly in the fall, causing my glasses to fall off. However, she insisted that even if I hadn’t hit my head at all, any fall on Coumadin could cause brain damage and I should get at least one CAT scan, if not two.

I asked what the signs of brain damage would be and she said, “headaches, double vision, nausea, or change of personality.” Telling my son Aaron, his friend Clark, and my husband Michael to be on alert for any brain damage, we went out to dinner as planned and the only cat scan I got was this:

Because my brain is not so damaged that I take foolish risks, I contacted the on-call doctor at my hospital to see what they would suggest and, as I suspected, she was rather surprised about the Urgent Care doctor’s concern about brain damage and supported my decision not to worry about it. Believe me, my brain is damaged enough by worries without adding unnecessary ones at this point.

Do you see any evidence of brain damage in my other images for today?

It seems brain damaged to me that all of today’s National days involve eating dead cows. There seems to be too much brain damage in my country as I write this, and we better use our brains before it’s too late.

Because double vision is one of the signs of brain damage, here’s “Double Vision” by Foreigner.

If you see any evidence of brain damage in this post, please let me know in the comments section, below, and I’ll consider getting a CAT scan.

Thanks to all who help me write these daily posts with my brain and my heart, including YOU!

Day 3338: Chores

It’s no chore for me to blog every day and here’s a definition of “chore.”

My husband, Michael (who does almost all the chores around here) and I sometimes discuss what chores we dread. He dreads the chore of taking out the garbage and I dread the chores of being on call at work, doing our taxes, and testing my blood every other week because I take the anticoagulant Coumadin. We both dread the chore of taking either of our cats to the vet.

Last night, I asked this question on Twitter:

I phrased the question that way because a few people have let me know that they find my Twitter questions a chore. I look forward to reading all the answers to that question, which will be no chore at all.

My niece Julie McGrath has said this about chores: “Try changing I HAVE to do this to I GET to do this!” Using Julie’s advice, I’ll say this: I get to check my blood INR today!

I also get to share all these quotes about chores with you, plus other random images.

Today I get to celebrate National Love Your Pet Day, which is no chore at all.

If it’s no chore, please leave a comment below.

Now I get to express my thanks to all who get to do chores and who read my blog, including YOU!

Day 3166: No rhyme nor reason

Today, September 1, is National No Rhyme (Nor Reason) Day in the USA.

I started looking at and sharing National Days some time in July, and this is the first day where there seems to be no rhyme nor reason for any of the designations. Why do we need a day for any of these? There seems to be no rhyme nor reason.

Also, every other list of National Days I’ve seen has included some kind of food or drink. Therefore, when I ask on Twitter how people are going to celebrate the precious day, there seems to be a rhyme or reason for that question. For example …

Actually, the more I think about it, No Rhyme Nor Reason Day seems like the perfect day for me to head back into the hospital, since the nose balloon that we hoped would fix my cat-claw-Coumadin nose bleed doesn’t seem to be working. When things don’t work, it can seem like there is no rhyme nor reason to anything. Also, National Burnt Ends Day seems appropriate, since they’ll probably cauterize the end of my nose, where our new kitty Joan scratched me three nights ago.

Maybe there seems to be no rhyme nor reason for me to be writing this blog at 3:45 AM. However, I’m distracting myself because the Ear Nose Throat on-call doctor I spoke to on the phone at 2 AM suggested that I wait some hours before coming in to be seen. The Emergency Room at my hospital is all filled up, she said, and it would be better to wait until 5 AM to show up there and even better if I could wait for my scheduled 10 AM appointment in the ENT clinic.

Maybe the doctor thought there was no rhyme nor reason to my disappointment and discouragement about the balloon not solving the problem as we had hoped. I tend to catastrophize and assume the worst for no rhyme nor reason, and when I expressed my worst fear — that the doctors would not be able to fix this problem for me — she seemed to think there was no rhyme nor reason to my despair.

For no rhyme nor reason, just writing those words is helping me feel better, here and now.

For no rhyme nor reason, I can’t load more images from my phone for this blog post, so I’m going to switch to my laptop to finish creating it.

Is there no rhyme nor reason for these images in today’s post?

Sayings like “We grow through what we go through” help provide some rhyme and reason, don’t you think?

I love George Duke, so here’s “No Rhyme No Reason” from one of my favorite keyboardists, who left this earth for no rhyme nor reason too soon.

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Here’s “No Rhyme No Reason” performed during a 2014 jazz festival tribute to George Duke, featuring a solo by guitarist Chuck Loeb, who also left this earth too soon for no rhyme nor reason that I can see or understand.

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For No Rhyme (Nor Reason) Day, I’ve written this rhyme for my own reasons.

On No Rhyme Nor Reason Day,

I think it’s wise for me to say,

That nosebleeds aren’t the worst things that occur.

People die before their time,

At least I’m still alive to rhyme,

And Joan the cat can soothe me with her purr.

There is no reason to rhyme any comments, below.

There’s always a rhyme and a reason to express gratitude, so thanks to all those who help me blog every day, including YOU!

Day 2699: For now

For now,

• Oscar seems to be feeling better, perhaps due to his steroid medication,
• friends and family seem to be well,
• I am not suffering,
• a lot of people are in pain,
• I am facilitating a telehealth version of my Coping and Healing groups five times every week,
• I am using the word “mute” and “unmute” way too often,
• I’m working from home for the foreseeable future,
• I am still President of the Northeastern Society for Group Psychotherapy,
• pasta is still my favorite food,
• the weather in Boston is beautiful,
• I am living near the water,
• most people in my neighborhood are wearing masks when they are outside,
• I see a lot of white male rage,

• I love Melissa Villasenõr,
• I believe in skill, perseverance, flexibility,  and luck,
• I was inexplicably able to fix an inexplicable and annoying display change on my laptop,
• when somebody calls me “annoying” or any other critical label, I have trouble letting go of that,
• I think saying “hello” and “goodbye” are both very important,
• focusing on the future often raises anxiety,
• I’m trying to avoid fortune telling, mind reading, and the other cognitive distortions,
• I prefer to live in the now,
• I am very grateful for all that I have, and
• I am sharing all my photos from yesterday.

For now and forever, I don’t drink wine because I’m on Coumadin for the rest of my life. For now, I am totally fine with that.

For now, I need to end this post and get ready for work, so thanks to all who helped me create another “For Now” post, including YOU!

Day 2056: Into the Unknown

As we enter into the unknown of another day and another blog post, I will tell you that the theme of the 2018 Edinburgh Festival Fringe is “Into the Unknown.”

I especially like that cover photo for “Into the Unknown” because many of my known photographs include my feet, like this one:

That reminds me that I went into the unknown yesterday with my son Aaron and his friends to try a highly recommended macaroni and cheese sandwich in Edinburgh, wearing my macaroni and cheese socks. Photos of that sandwich and other Edinburgh meals will remain unknown to my readers because my son extracted a known promise from me that I do NOT take pictures of food when I’m with him and his friends.

Before this visit, my son Aaron’s Edinburgh friends were unknown to me. They are unknown no longer.

That drawing of Aaron’s friend Jago was done by his known and long-time friend Cameron, who is known to my readers.

The known Cameron is on the right and the previously unknown Jago and Michael are on the left. When we went into that unknown grocery store to get spinach, which I’m known to need because of my known heart condition and medication, it was unknown to us that no photos were allowed there. The security guard told us that unknown rule so we would know not to take more photos there.

I hope it’s known to you that I’m known for taking photos everywhere I go as I venture into the unknown.

Those last few previously unknown photos show us going into the unknown of the amazing Neal Portenza’s latest and (I hope!) NOT final Edinburgh show, despite his poster.

I plan to be going into the unknown of more Fringe shows today.

Do you know what helps you find the courage to go into the unknown? For me, it’s known that blogging helps a lot.

Now let’s go into the unknown of today’s blog post ending.

Day 1993: Power

Yesterday, in a therapy group, I randomly picked this “angel card”:

We all have power. Soon, I will be taking on more power as the President of a professional group therapy organization. I hope to use that power well.

A few days ago, I noticed that the cafeteria in the hospital where I work had stopped including vitamin-K-rich spinach in their salad bar. Because I take the powerful medication Coumadin. I need the power to control the amount of Vitamin K in my diet, and I usually do so by taking the same amount of spinach every day from the salad bar.   I owned my personal power and asked to speak to the person who had the power to decide what items to include in that salad bar. She told me that the hospital had decided to feature local produce and had replaced the spinach with locally grown kale. I told her about my taking Coumadin, which is a very common drug, and explained that kale had too much vitamin K and that I can’t eat kale.  As I was explaining all this to her, these were my powerful thoughts, “Why am I doing this?  I don’t have any power here. They’ve already made this decision.    I’ll have to figure out how to regulate my vitamin K a different way.”

The next day, I saw this at the hospital salad bar:

Sometimes we have power even when we think we don’t.  The powerful moral for me: keep speaking up, because maybe somebody is listening.

Do you see power in my other photos from yesterday?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

People have the power to decide whether they want their pictures taken.  My son Aaron was okay with that last night (and Michael wasn’t).

The ocean has the power to heal, I believe.

Today, Aaron and I will be experiencing the power of “West Side Story” at Boston’s Symphony Hall.  I never get tired of the power of that score by Bernstein and Sondheim and I’m glad that YouTube has the power to provide the musical clips I need for this blog (here and here).

I look forward to the power of your comments, below.

I always end these daily posts with the power of gratitude to all who help me create them and — of course! — to YOU.

Day 1882: Summon your strength

I need to summon my strength for a very early morning flight to Houston, so I choose to summon this pack of tissues.

I need to summon my strength because I am

• tired,
• in pain from tearing my rotator cuff,
• meeting new people,
• traveling to an unfamiliar city,
• presenting about my therapy groups,
• on the medication Coumadin and needing to maintain a therapeutic INR with a consistent diet, and
• homesick in advance.

I summon my strength by

• writing,
• sharing my thoughts and feelings, and
• taking pictures of my surroundings.

 

That message on the Paramount Theater in Boston summons my strength to remember that we are home no matter where we are in this world and that I’ll be attending a two-day therapy group in Houston titled “Longing for Home: Past Attachments and Reparative Re-Attachments.”

I also summon my strength by going to great musicals with people I love.

Telling people “You Matter to Me” helps them summon their strength.

 

How do you summon your strength?

Strong thanks to all who helped me summon my strength to create another blog post and — of course! — to my readers, who matter to me.

 

Day 1769: Perfect

Because I talk to people about letting go of the need to be perfect, I’m not surprised that I’ve written only one other post titled “Perfect.”

Because human beings are not perfect, I’m not surprised that my perfect temperature in that July 2016 post was temporary and between two hospitalizations.

Yesterday, I had a perfect INR of 3.1.

I confess that I am NOT being perfect in preventing falls, because I

• am not wearing my glasses while I’m typing this post,
• do not keep my home perfectly clutter free,
• am often walking and talking,
• have texted while walking, and
• do not bring my list of medicines to doctor visits.

I DO try not to get distracted.  However, I’m distracted enough by that list that I’m going to get my glasses.

I think my new glasses are perfect.

That’s probably temporary, too.

Let’s see if there are any perfect quotes about “Perfect.”

In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they’re still beautiful. — Alice Walker

Beauty is truth’s smile when she beholds her own face in a perfect mirror. — Rabindranath Tagore

Instead of trying to make your life perfect, give yourself the freedom to make it an adventure, and go ever upward. — Drew Houston

An arrogant person considers himself perfect. This is the chief harm of arrogance. It interferes with a person’s main task in life — becoming a better person. — Leo Tolstoy

I never expect to see a perfect work from an imperfect man. — Alexander Hamilton

To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often. — Winston Churchill

Tell me I’m clever,

Tell me I’m kind,

Tell me I’m talented,

Tell me I’m cute,

Tell me I’m sensitive,

Grateful and wise,

Tell me I’m perfect —

But tell me the truth. — Shel Silverstein

To me, every hour of the day and night is an unspeakably perfect miracle. — Walt Whitman

Are any of these photos perfect?

 

While taking most of those photos yesterday, I was listening to Stevie Wonder’s “I Wish That I Could Come Back as a Flower,” which was perfect.

Any comments from you would be perfect.

Perfect thanks to all who helped me create today’s imperfect post and — of course! — to YOU.

Day 1700: What are the odds?

What are the odds that

• somebody obsessed with odds and odd things  has never published a post with this title before?
• The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally would reach its 1700th consecutive day of blogging?
• three women with the extraordinarily rare heart condition of Congenitally Corrected Transposition of the Great Arteries (cctga) would all be in Edinburgh at the same time, to meet for breakfast later today?
• those same three women met for the first time at the same exact place two years ago?
• this blogger, who likes to refer to her old posts, would include a link to that prior meeting here?
• my son, after attending several Fringe Festivals in Edinburgh with his mother, would apply to the University of Edinburgh and get admitted to a 5-year program in Mathematics where they probably discuss probability and odds?
• I actually had no worries yesterday after publishing a post with that name?
• we would return to Forsyth’s Tea Room yesterday to revisit with the lovely Christina, who figured prominently in this post from two years ago?
• if you visit that post from two years ago you’ll see other people we encountered again yesterday at the 2017 Festival Fringe, including the very talented Durham Revue?
• Scottish coins looks so odd to us that we might confuse it with chocolate coins, which Christina gave to us yesterday?
• there would be so many beautiful days in Edinburgh during this time of the year?
• somebody taking  Coumadin/Warfarin would be able to control her Vitamin K consumption while she’s traveling by eating the exact right amount of spinach every day?
• people would be able to keep track of time well enough to make it to all their scheduled shows at a festival like the Fringe?
• a comic genius like Neal Portenza (a/k/a Joshua Ladgrove) would have dinner with two of his biggest fans from the USA?
• readers will actually respond to any of these questions in the comment section below?
• this exact series of photos would make it to this post today?

 

What are the odds that I would include this odd video here?

What are the odds that I would end this post with thanks to all who helped me create today’s post and YOU, for reading?  Pretty good.

Day 1698: Whose Blog is it Anyway?

Whose blog is it anyway?

It’s the blog of somebody who

• is seeing “Whose Line is it Anyway?” today at the Edinburgh Fringe

• makes mistakes, like double booking

• sometimes runs late

• loves macaroni and cheese

• enjoys being surprised by chocolate and by bliss

• needs to monitor and control her Vitamin K consumption because she’s on Warfarin

• doesn’t get shit-faced but loves Shakespeare

• is still merrily rolling along

• loves Scotland and misses her cats.

Whose blog is it anyway? It’s my blog, so I’m going to post a video.

Whose comment is it anyway? I hope it’s yours.

Whose gratitude is it, anyway, for all who helped me create this post and all who are reading it? Guess!