Carpal and Ulnar

Theses nerves are getting on my nerves.

A lady at church qualified the success of her surgery to the apparent failure of mine by saying, "I stopped doing all of the things that bothered mine."

My inner response?
a)  if you STOPPED doing all of the things that irritated the nerves in the first place, your surgery might have been an utter failure too.
b)  if you STOPPED doing all of the things that irritated the nerves in the first place, you must not have very much to do.

For all of you that believe that typing this blog is the only thing causing a problem, here's my list.

All of the Things

buttoning buttons

zipping zippers

jewelry clasps

hair brushes

tweasers

holding a book

turning a page -- every page

holding a pen

or a pencil

texting

holding a phone

folding laundry

(especially socks)

scrubbing
whisking
curling
peeling

holding the stearing wheel

braiding hair 

holding a camera

pressing the shutter button

applying chapstick

holding a fork

(or spoon or knife)

shoveling the snow

scraping the windshield

cuddling with my husband

holding my son

(and my daughters...for long periods of time)

giving massages

putting on socks

(and taking them off again)

taking out the garbage

raising my arms above my head

making a fist

(all right, I can't actually make a fist anymore)

sleeping

This list may not be all of the things, but when you read it, you may notice that my nerves are getting in the way of many of my favorite things.  What helps?  Daily yoga, dancing (with lots of long arm styling), ice, and ulnar glide stretches.  

Now, if only people would realize their perspective is just that -- their own.

Charm

Friday, I attended the fundraising performance of the Weber State University production of "Charm".  Written by Kathleen Callahan, the play was described as "...a blend of fact and romance, magical speculation and storytelling skill that details the life and times of Margaret Fuller, a 19th-century woman ready to transcend even the transcendentalism made popular in her day by Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson and Nathaniel Hawthorne, who are featured in the play. Fuller worked with some of these men on “The Dial” as one of its first-ever female editors."

What I didn't know was that I would laugh out loud for 2 full hours -- that my eyes would need to actively flit from actor to actor to catch the facial expressions and their reactions the writer/editor Margaret Fuller.  She was me living in that time and very much NOT me in her desperation to transcend her body and know the bliss of love through physical touch, she reached beyond convention and pushed every boundary she could.

Her pillow fight with Count O of Italy (a certain play on words) was inspired.  It made me want to go straight to the craft store, fill up our normal pillow cases with feathers and go to town!  So fun.  There were magical, creative moments when the costume design brought to life for the modern eye the very real distance that the "yards of fabric" created between a man and a woman.  The ending was shocking -- breathtaking even in the unexpected and suddenness of it all.  I didn't know any of the history of Margaret Fuller's life.  I could make no assumptions about the way the play would come around and finish.  It was really a Sparkly ending.  No matter how cool Callahan thought she was being.  But, when she felt the muse -- "Oh!  An idea...for a story!!"  She followed it to fruition and I am SO glad for the laughter.

Good luck to the WSU theatrical team as they take this production on to the national level, which you can read about here.

Hysteria (2011)

During one of the many Literature classes I worked my way through, there was a reference to the historical idea of "hysteria" -- an ailment affecting women that caused a wide range of symptoms (nervousness, agitation, cramps, etc.) and sometimes required the drastic treatment of a hysterectomy -- YIKES!!

So, when Hollywood decided to present a period piece, I couldn't miss it!  They took some artistic license with the actual, historical facts of the matter. Dr. Granville, the inventor of the electromagnetic vibrator, hadn't originally intended the devise for the purpose of female genital massage, but the film has him saving his aching hands from treating half of London (the female half) with the prescribed treatment of the time.

("I always start with a good bit of musk oil with a bit of lavendar"...Dr. Dalrymple.)

The "R" rating has everything to do with the context of the film.  The good doctors have no idea they are inducing what we modernly refer to as an orgasm.  They believe they are inducing a "paroxysm" (or seizure) that forces the uterus back in the right position causing immediate relief of all of their patients "symptoms".  The procedure is done with the women fully clothed, under a curtain.  The camera is focused on their faces and the ticking clock.

In the end, the doctor's daughter Charlotte, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal, hits the nail on the head saying that  the only thing troubling the women of the city is that they are married to dimwitted men who are either too selfish or too careless to make love to their wives in a satisfactory way. (There really are a few laughs in here!)

This period piece addresses several other historical points of interest for women's rights.  In the end, I was glad that they chose to make it a love story.  Women, in general, don't want to do away with men completely, but they do want the opportunity to live, work and thrive as a partner.  I'm not sure the suffrage movement or women's liberation has done much to bring us closer to that point.  But, I appreciate the historical nod at one thing we don't have to go through anymore.

Meaning...I can be hysterical and it has NOTHING to do with my the state of my uterus.

Flash Dance Hair

This morning, I woke up with flash dance hair.  Big, curly, wild and brown.  My hair, like my life, is never the same.  Sometimes, that's just me getting adventurous and shaking things up... like that one time I thought I'd go black for my birthday and found out that black is never temporary.  I say "shaking" it up, but even that really isn't necessary. My hair won't do the same thing two days in a row.  It's so obstinate in its originality that I've regretted any time I've ever gotten a hair cut intended for a single style.  It just doesn't work out.  Sameness and status quo do not go together with me.  I've learned a lot about flexibility and taking each day as it comes from having hair with a mind of its own.  I really have to wake up prepared to handle anything.  I need a plan and a contingency plan.  I need parameters of just how relaxed and/or professional my hair needs to be that day and a bundle of tools to get it there.  But, I don't like to waste my time on my hair.  Managing my hair has become an exercise in quick and creative thinking and I do it on a deadline.  I also regularly stand out in a crowd or become anonymous as people who should know who I am don't take the time to see my features -- only my hair.  Who knew hair that declares its independence daily would be a window into human psychology?

I wonder what it's like for people who have one hair style their whole life.  Are their opinions limited, their judgement exclusive, their day as dull ... as their hair?

THE US CONSTITUTION

Article 1: Section 8

Clause 1: The Congress shall have Power To lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises, to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence and general Welfare of the United States; but all Duties, Imposts and Excises shall be uniform throughout the United States;

It turns out that the Supreme Court and I disagree on what it means to provide for the "general Welfare" of the citizens of the United States of America.  I believed that, in this case, the authors of the Constitution intended the use of the word to mean our general "good health, fortune, prosperity and well-being."  I guess the majority (5-4) of the Supreme Court Justices grew up believing the definition of the word to be "a governmental agency that provides fund and aid to people in need."

Brilliant. 

The medical insurance/pharmaceutical industries have been lining their pockets with the very lucrative consequences of fear for years.  Thanks to our government, none of them has to worry about one thing that is common to the general public -- the possibility of unemployment.

Apparently

ap·par·ent

   /əˈpærənt, əˈpɛər-/ Show Spelled[uh-par-uhnt, uh-pair-] 

adjective

1.readily seen; exposed to sight; open to view; visible: The crack in the wall was readily apparent.

2.capable of being easily perceived or understood; plain or clear; obvious: The solution to the problem was apparent to all.

3.according to appearances, initial evidence, incomplete results, etc.; ostensible rather than actual: He was the apparent winner of the election.

4.entitled to a right of inheritance by birth, indefeasible except by one's death before that of the ancestor, to an inherited throne, title, or other estate.

It turns out this is not a word that is intended to be inserted at the beginning of every sentence kids. 

Liar, Liar: Pants on Fire

These days, I feel like I'm hanging upside down from a telephone wire.  Recently, a girlfriend shared some information about one of our children's mutual friends.  It didn't feel like super hush-hush information, but I still didn't intend for it to fall out of my mouth the way it did to my daughter the next day in my just-waking-up-from-a-not-nearly-long-enough nap.  Crap. 

Of course, I pointed out that this information didn't need to be shared because it would just be hurtful, but, holy crap batman: do NOT tell me the directions to your batcave right now!

By the next day, I came home from church to find the 16 year old in crocodile sized tears, everyone (the son of the girlfriend, the girlfriend, the mutual friend who had negative things said about her AND the mutual friend's mom) were all calling my daughter a LIAR (and that is putting it mildly.) 

I couldn't reach anyone by phone and drove directly to Mom Y's house to confront her about calling my daughter a liar instead of calling and yelling at me for sharing the details of a "private" conversation (the comments had been made within earshot of most of our children).  Not understanding the hold that Mom X has on my girlfriend, Mom Y, I tried to call and smooth out all of the edges.  In a split second decision, I decided to go to the house of Mom X and make it my fault.  I alluded to the things that had come from my mouth but said that they had been "misunderstood."

I've never regretted covering the tail end of a friend as much as that moment of deception.  I wanted to protect my friend, who was (in my humble opinion) behaving irrationally based on some fear of knowing just how powerful Mom X is in that neighborhood.  But, what I ended up doing was to cause my daughter's friend to doubt her words and her motive. 

Her motive?  She wanted to put her friend on guard around Mom Y so that she wouldn't believe Mom Y is an ally when she is absolutely not.  Mom Y has some very unfriendly opinions about this girl that she doesn't want her to know about.

As for the backlash...

Mom X won't let daughter X come to my house anymore.  The reason?  Because I am a LIAR.  The awful part about is that for that one moment, I was.  I protected my friend...saved face for her.  In return, my daughter's integrity and my own are in question and this woman (and her son) had the gall to yell out, put down and use degrading language toward my little girl -- demanding an apology from her in the process.  Um...no.

Who needs enemies when you have friends like that?