Run Forrest, Run!

Forrest Gump is one of my favorite movies of all time.  I often refer to it with my Facebook posts.  One of my favorite quotes is:  My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." 

So, I found it a bit ironic recently when I found myself having a Forrest Gump monent.  Have you ever had a moment in your life when you felt a bit like Forest Gump does after Jennie leaves?  If you remember, he was not sure what to do.  So, he just started running.

I found myself in a similar situation recently.  My husband did not leave me, thankfully.  But the situation I found myself in was a very hurtful one. I did not know what to do and I had an undeniable urge to run.  So, I listened to my body, heart and mind and I went for a run.  I am glad to say that while the situation was not over.  I felt better equipped to deal with it.

I have a feeling that I will be running a lot more in the future.

20 Years Together

Yellow Roses are one of my favorites.  As you probably know from a previous post, I have a tattoo of a yellow rose on my ankle.  I got that yellow rose on my ankle when I was 19.  That story, I will save for another day.

My husband does not often get me flowers.  So, when he does they mean a lot to me.  7 February, he surprised me, he returned home from a business trip and had 2 dozen yellow roses with him.  It was the anniversary of the night we start dating.

I have a lot to thank him for over the last 20 years.  It has been an interesting ride filled with many ups and downs.

We have been involved in:

•  family squabbles,
• our own fights,
• the births of our children, 
• weddings, 
• graduations, 
• birthdays, 
• buying homes, selling homes, 
• moving states, moving countries, 
• deaths of loved ones, 
• car accidents (mine), 
• kids in emergency rooms, 
• shoulder surgery and kidney stones (him), 
• death threats (seriously, no joke, those would be mine), 
• session of counseling (mostly mine and one couple session), 
• my messiness and 
• his refusal to eat anything colored green (with the exception of raw spinach).

We have gone a long way in 20 years, literally and figuratively.  My husband is my harshest critique and my biggest cheerleader.  He is my rock and my best friend.  Thank you, honey for the last 20 years.  Each year has gotten better and better.  Though I am not looking forward to aging and watching our children grow up (that part brings many tears), I am glad that I have you to spend the rest of my life with....

Thank you for seeing the real me, knowing what I am capable of, not giving up on me when I wanted to and while other have.  Thank you for all your support on my journey to be a better person and thank you for being my partner in this thing we call life.  I love you.

6th Form

My oldest son is in his last year at St. Nicholas School in Harlow. The school literally does not have any more grades or as they call them here in the UK years, past his current year in school.

As you might remember, the kids here can technically be done with school at age 16.  The law is in the process of being changed and will be fully in place by 2013.

In the meantime with our future being nervously passed around and no formal extension in place, we realized in a panic in December that Colin needed a back up plan for the fall.  So, I had a quick meeting with the school and formulated a battle plan. Knowing his study habits and need for supervision, they were able to point me toward a few different schools to start the application process.

So far he has applied to one school.  The Herts & Essex High School.  We received notice that they were having a short interview with all prospective applicants.  My son and several from his school had their interviews last night.  He was nervous and was unsure how it went.  Knowing my son, he was fine.  He, like his mother, has the gift of gab.  He is also lucky enough to be very smart and he has high predictions for his GCSE tests.  Now, I guess we just continue the process for now!

Chasing Rainbows? I wish...

Apologies.

I learned long ago that a meaningful sorry takes some real thought.  I have tried hard to teach this concept to my children.  One summer we spent the afternoon listening to a program on NPR about it.  Then we discussed it and practiced it.  In fact, we still practice it.

Meaningful apologies are important.  This >>>>> “I am sorry that you found my comment offensive” or “I am sorry that you felt that way".  Ok, well thanks.  Do you feel better?  Nope?  Me either.  In both cases the offender never actually acknowledges that they were wrong or takes any responsibility for their behavior(s).  Those apologies lack sincerity, heart and avoids all responsibility.

Another thing that I have learned about apologies is that you can’t chase someone with apologies.  If they don’t want to hear them, it is not going to have any effect.  Sometimes, what has happened has nothing to do with you.  So, I have a strict no chasing anyone for apologies policy.  If there is a problem, then I wait for it to be brought to my attention, so that we can deal with the situation as adults. If you can’t or won’t do that, hmmmm, well, I am going to assume that you are looking for more (like drama and confrontation), and I am not doing it.  I would rather be chasing rainbows.....

Lactose and Gluten Free

A couple of year ago, I noticed that my body was changing.  I could have just chalked it up to age.  But, know what I know, I had an idea that it was something more.

I decided to go dairy and gluten free for two weeks.  I noticed differences, almost immediately.  My tummy was not as bloated and I was not as gassy.  When I started adding things back into my diet, I was a bit impatient.  I added both dairy and gluten in at the same time, so I was not able to pin point what exactly was causing problems.  Over the last few years, I have been able to determine that I definitely have some dairy intolerance, but since gluten could still be a problem because of the harm that it does the small intestines, I still can’t completely rule out that I have an issue with gluten.  

On Monday, I decided to go completely gluten and dairy free again.  I made the decision for a few reasons.  First, I really need to get a handle on what is causing me the problems.  Second, I need to figure out if I can tolerate any other dairy like cheeses or yoghurts.  Some people with lactose intolerances can tolerate them.  

I have been having a hard time avoiding dairy and gluten in the UK.  I love clotted cream teas!  When I am at a friends house, it is customary to be offered tea.  I don’t care for it black and I don’t bring my dairy free coconut milk.  My friends are so used to putting milk in tea that I often do not get my request in before they have made it white.  I also LOVE cheese.  We often eat crackers and cheese as a snack on Saturday and Sunday’s.  Plus, my favorite desserts in the UK have lots of dairy and gluten involved.  And one can’t forget that I am now doing some work for a local bakery that has a fantastic little cafe...

Going gluten free is also more difficult for me here since I have not attempted any real baking ventures.  My husband insisted that I leave my Kitchen Aid mixer at home.  Enough said.

Recently I discovered these wonder products in the grocery store.  Free From.

The package is easily marked.  The little bubbles in the corner nicely tell me what it is “From Free”.  These bakewell tarts are actually my favorite. My complaint about the products are that they seem to contain glucose-fructose syrup, otherwise knows as high fructose corn syrup.  Doh!  Now I know why my ADD is going crazy!

The NHS does have testings and if all else fails at the end of my trial, I may just end up getting testing done.

Psst... Did You See That?

My husband often sees something that someone is wearing and nudges me with a ‘Did you see that?’.  It usually includes a very incredulous look and if we are in close proximity, it is whispered.  Sometimes I see the fashion faux pas before he points it out to me.  It might be an unusual tattoo or piercing, a bright orange spray tan, maybe something that someone said or even an odd hair cut or color.  

While I have never seen anyone look quite like the photo above, I have seen some interesting things.  And definitely different then what you would find in Fort Wayne, Indiana.  

It is so easy to stereotype, isn’t it? When we see people dressed certain ways, with piercings, various tattoos, bright orange fake tans, outrageous hairstyles.... it is so easy to go down that road.  They are making a statement, no doubt.  In particular, I have to be careful where I lead myself when going down that road.  It is so easy for me to get caught in thinking the negative, particularly so because I am related to people that have lived the negative lifestyle that can come to mind when you see some of the aforementioned things.

I always wonder what leads people to choose what they have tattooed on their bodies.  Tattoo are a permanent marking. I have one, it is a yellow rose on my ankle.  It does have significance to me, my Aunt Adrienne, who died when I was in college, loved yellow roses.  I know that sometimes people get them impulsively.  Look at David Beckham, his arms are covered in tattoos.  Do they all have a significant meaning to him or were they an impulse?  I have a friend or two that is my age that have had their tattoos removed.  They are smart women and just found that they were not what they wanted anymore.

If David decides he does’t want his anymore... on advice of my friends, apparently they hurt like hell to remove.

Then I started to reflect on piercings.  While I do not find some piercings particularly pleasing to look at, obviously some people do.  Piercings are becoming more and more common.  Here they are very common, many women have their noses pierced.  My husband often teased me before we moved to the UK and said that I would be wanted my nose pierced, because so many of the women that he saw had them.  So far, I can report that I have not gained anymore piercings, while living here.  When I was in my 20’s, I wanted to have my nose pierced and I still contemplate having my naval done .  I am really glad that I did not go through with having my nose done.  I have enough trouble trying to remember to wear earrings!  Plus, it turns out that I scar very easily.

At least the hair styles and orange spray tans are something that is not permanent.  The area that I live in, the orange spray tans are known as “Essex Orange”.  When we are out Saturdays doing errands, we always see one or two women in Harlow with an orange tint to their skin.  Personally, I’ll skip the Ompahloompa look, that is unless I want to dress the part at Halloween!

And if I ever start wearing more then one item of animal print at a time, please friends, start an intervention!

I am sure it would never get that far.  My husband would never let me out of the house... 

  

Duvet Days

In the UK, often when my friends or their children are having a yucky kind of day, they have a duvet day.  The spend the day cuddled up on the couch, snuggled up in blankets, relaxing and watching movies.

Today I am home with my ten year old.  He has been struggling with a cold for a couple of days now and last night we noticed that he was running a low grade fever.  This morning he woke up with the fever again, along with his sniffles and coughs.

I was not too disappointed about the thought of having a duvet day with him.  Last night was not a good night for sleep.  Last night before bed, our dog Chip managed to get into the food waste bin under the sink. He puked three times last night.  So, poor mommy is tired, the 10 year old is feeling under the weather and Chip still seems to not be feeling so well himself.  Hopefully a duvet day and some meds for those of us that need it and and bland diet for Chip, will set us all feeling better.

One of the Girls

Friendship.  I was never the best at friendships growing up.  A few years ago, I looked back at my 3rd grade teachers comments on my report card about how I needed to learn to be a better friend.  I am not exactly sure what she was referring to, because I don’t remember a lot of my 3rd grade year.  I just remember that I was always looking for a best friend, and that year my best friend was Tiffany.

After 3rd grade my quest for a BFF continued. She found a different BFF, a girl that had moved in over the summer.  Three was a crowd, at least in my estimation so I moved on.  I did not have a particular BFF and so I sort of gave up and really just turned to reading.  The other girls moved into pre-teens and did not like me, and proved it by doing vicious girl things to me.  The boys weren’t impressed with me either, I had glasses, was not a bit athletic and had my nose stuck in a book.  Not interesting.

Then I moved away.  I looked at it as a way to have a brand new start.  I found lots of new friends and it was fantastic.  I still had friendship problems.  I have to admit it, I was jealous of a lot of my friends for one reason or another.  I did have one really good friend, Renee that I confided into and I told her everything.  At the time, it must have been hard for her because I did talk unkindly about some of our other friends and she called me out on it, in a hard way. Instead of talking to me about it, she told them.  It led to a very uncomfortable and tense situation for me.  But, I made my peace with them and chalked it up as a lesson learned.

Then, we moved again, back to where the girls used to torment me.  I had changed and so had they.  We had a lovely peace arrangement for a time.  Then, between my own insecurities and theirs, we went to war.  Those girls and I warred though the rest of my high school career.  It was not a pleasant thing to go through and I definitely acted out at home and in school because of the miserable situation.

I learned many, many valuable lessons in the meantime.  I learned how to be a good friend and I learned how to spot women that treated me like those girls had treated me.  In my adult life, I carry lots of scars from those battles.  When I left high school, I took what I learned and I trusted very few women.

I have had a few close friends here and there, I probably have 3 best friends and 5 really good friends.  They are scattered all over the US (and now in the UK) and we communicate when it becomes important. I call it the rubber band theory. The rubber band between us stretches and stretches until it can go no further.  Then, it snaps and one of us picks up the phone and calls each other. I can go for months without talking to them and then when we talk, it is like we were never apart.

I have watched other groups of women that are good friends with complete envy.  My mother in law and her sisters have a great friendship.  I have always wanted my own group of girl friends, forever.  I have finally found them, here in the UK.  This year I have a momentous birthday coming up, and on a walk with my  one of my friends we discussed the grand possibilities of a girls weekend.  YAY me! I finally have found ‘my’ girls.

At the A&E

Last week we got another look at the British National Health System.  This look was very educational...

My husband had passed a kidney stone right before we moved to the UK.  We knew that he had more in his kidneys and that it would be a matter of time before he would need to pass them.  Two weeks ago, he woke up and it all started.  

Then pain peaked the morning I had to go to Heathrow and get his mother.  We did not have a way to get in touch with her, so I drove to get her and my husband went to the A&E (Accident and Emergency) by himself.

I collected my mother in law and we left right away and headed to the A&E to see Sean.  He had done fairly well on his own and was actually suppose to leave but as we got there, the pain of the renal colic worsened again and he was taken to a different area of the A&E.

The staff medicated him well and for the most part the care was good.  The only thing that they neglected was to give him water to stop him from dehydrated.  They wanted to keep him and do a bladder scan on him, but the bladder scanner was ‘missing’.  It STAYED missing for HOURS!

They eventually admitted him and took him up to the first floor.  The plan was find the missing bladder scanner and perform a scan.  The scanner, seriously did not turn up for hours.  We really wanted to take him home, if they were only going to do pain management, we had medicine at home and things would be ok.  But the staff started making comments like 'refusal of services’.  We had never heard these terms and they sort of freaked us out. It turns out it would have been no big deal to leave in hindsight but at the time we did not know. So, that was one reason he decided to stay.  Another reason was he had a CAT scan in the morning.

With some help from a good friend, 2 of the boys were dropped home.  I picked up the other two later and then headed back to the hospital to take my mother in law and the rest of the kids home.  I had a quick dinner and then headed back to see my husband.

In the meantime, the bladder scanner had been found and he had a scan done.  Things were ok, but the pain was continuing.  He was finally cleared to eat and drink more then clear liquids.  There was a really kind staff member who made him a sandwich.  They had also made him some broth earlier.  Actually the day staff seemed really nice and helpful for them most part as did the A&E staff.  We did notice a few strange things, like the man sitting in the corner, all dressed and ready to go but not discharged....

Then, after I came back, the doctor came to see my husband.  My husband had told him that he did not want morphine for the pain and then the doctor came back and told us that he had ordered it anyway.  I proceeded to share concerns with the doctor about why my husband had turned it down and as we were talking my husband started puking and then decided to take it.  This has become a bigger issue after the fact as first the dr ordered it after my husband has said no.  Second, morphine has actually been shown to make renal colic worse and we knew from past experience that other pain meds worked and worked well.  Plus there are many, many reason one should avoid morphine.

there was a shift change.  Just before the shift change my husband was puking.  He was in a 22 open bed ward, and one of the other patrons a few beds over put on his call light and asked for a bed pan.  The day nurse asked him to wait the 15 minutes for shift change.  In a way, I was glad, but I was also horrified.  The man got up and went himself (good for him!).

As the staff was changing over, call buttons were beeping all over the floor like crazy.  I could hear them and I could hear the staff standing at the desk talking about Facebook.  I sat there as it all unfolded around me and I got more and more concerned.  They were there, chatting about Facebook for at least 15 minutes.

When Sean is sick, we always seem to get a nasty nurse.  This time, unfortunately was not any different.  This time is was the night nurse.  As she made her rounds and dispensed medicines, I grew more and more concerned.  She noticed me and told me that I was going to have to leave, I decided not to talk to her at that point, hoping that I could convince her to let me stay.  But as I watched her interact with other patients, I knew that we were going to have a row.

She told one man off because he let her know that the other gentleman had went to the loo.  After the gentleman got back from the loo, she then proceeded to tell him off because last night he had not wanted a Tylenol when she was doing rounds, he asked for it an hour later.  Not to mention that my husband had been without water again for over an hour.  And I want to leave my husband in your care why?

When she finally got to my husband, she told me I had to leave.  I then recounted everything that I had seen and told her no way.  She then tried to give me long, drawn out excuses on why they would not give the man a bed pan and I told her it didn’t really matter to me.  She offered my husband pain relievers and then in another heated discussion, she hinted that she did not have to give him his medicine.  I promptly stopped any and all discussion (she was attempting yet again to give me pointless excuses on something that I had complained to her about) and I insisted, repeatedly that she give him his medicine.  After more heated discussion in which she threatened to have me escorted out by security, I said that I would leave after his medicine took hold.

I was in tears about leaving my husband that way in such a state of pain. It was one of the hardest things that I have had to do.  But I did, mostly because I had a plan. My friend had helped me move cars around and made a trip to the store to grab a few things for my husband (American Gingerale of all things).  She mentioned to me a key phrase “private hopsital”.  I went home and immediately made phone calls to our private health insurance to figure out what we should do next if he was going to require a longer hospital stay.

Thankfully, my husband was better the next morning.  He went to his scan and then waited for the remainder of the day to be discharged.  It literally took him all day to go through the process and to finally be discharged.

I have taken my concerns and complaints to the NHS site and now my blog.  We definitely learned a lot in the experience and the A&E in Harlow will not be our first choice for care next time.

Was it the worst experience ever?  No.  If it was the only choice I had for treatment, it would have not been ideal, but it is better then no treatment at all.  Next time we have an emergency, we have a plan and we know more about the NHS system.