Birthdays, Social Media and Self Worth

If it had not been for my children, I would have never attempted to join any of the social media outlets. My daughter (not Jeannine - although she most likely could have facilitated it) created my Facebook account several years ago, and I have to admit that until recently I have not spent a great deal of time there.

It was important for me, however, to check in once in awhile just to see what my children were doing and show support for their life successes as they "posted" to their page. Every now and then my son would ask if I had seen something or other that he had posted, and then I would have to track down the post and "like" it, or more often, make some comment about how he should not refer to Jeannine as a "moose."

Since embarking on this quest to be brave and challenge myself to be a better person, I have been checking in on Facebook several times a week. I had at first decided that I would use this as a forum to promote devotions and prayers, calling on my FB friends and family to join me in prayer. I have even used it to ask for prayers for family, friends and even for myself when needed. I was always impressed at the number of people who responded to my requests and even followed up to know the outcome.

The one thing I have noticed in the past few years is how FB will let me know of birthdays and the like, and offer an opportunity to send greetings (or even a gift) to the person celebrating their special day. Not that I have taken advantage of all the opportunities to "write on a timeline," for every person "friended," but I have noticed on the newsfeed the numbers of well-wishes for this person or that person celebrating a birthday. Some people had outpourings numbered into the hundreds. "Wow," I thought, "certainly when my natal day arrives I should hear from many of my friends and family!" Alive with anticipation, I made sure that I checked FB on that fatal day in January.

What a disappointment. I believe I had less than 10 and perhaps less than five greetings on my timeline.

Contrast this to two weeks or so later when Jeannine's birthday rolled around. The little mugwump had no less than 100 greetings on her timeline, and a large percentage of them were more than just a short "Happy Birthday." Many took the time to write beautiful messages to her. What was more amazing was that a number of these posts were morphed from someone else's post. When adding the "likes" to the actual messages, the number skyrocketed.

As I reflected on this humiliating experience, I rationalized that so many people acknowledged her birthday because she is a very special person and people were just being kind. I, on the other hand, am just an ordinary person who would not take notice or feel slighted if ignored. That really did not make sense because it really was not about me, but about how so many people connected to her. On deeper reflection, I remembered a long time friend of mine who, when her birthday came, had hundreds of greetings and well-wishes as well. What could be the difference between me and them?

I never felt that I could call her by anything other than her given name, but "She," as many of her close friends know her, is a high school friend I had not seen or spoken with for years. Then we found a connection on FB and I have had the joy of touching part of her life again for a few years now. "She" has a remarkably open and friendly personality. I remember that in our class of 32 students, "She" had a wonderful ability to be part of any group. This could be that so many of our classmates were her friends since grade school, so the bonds were forged before I met her, but on closer inspection, it was more than that.

"She" was also part of other groups in our class, the most memorable being those who followed the rock bands of the time. Now these were not the soft rock groups and solo singers: these were the hard rock bands of the age. As I was not part of this group (or any group) and generally had no interest in the music of the time, I can only guess for a frame of reference that these might be bands like The Who and Led Zeppelin. Anyway, "She" had strong connections with all of us in the class and it was not surprising that when reconnecting via FB, many of her connections were from high school days.

What is even more disturbing for me is that "She" told me she does not publish her birthday on Facebook, so all those who wish her well have no reminders that her birthday has arrived. Perhaps those who have sent greetings to her do not remember her birthday either, but, like Jeannine, some of the posts were generated by others who saw previous comments.

So for what it is worth, I could take this and measure my self worth based on a pitiful showing of social media birthday greetings, but I think that I will accept the fact that I am blessed to be connected to two very beautiful souls, who in different ways have touched many people in deep and profound ways.

On a Mission to Find Shoes

Those who have had the wonderful experience of creating and keeping great health in their life by achieving their best weight I think will appreciate this experience. I slogged away for decades at a weight that, while not morbidly obese, was clearly outside what is considered "normal" let alone "optimal."

I embraced the Habits of Health about six months ago and lost about 33 pounds. I am amazed at how much better I feel and how much more I can accomplish in a day being less heavy. Be that as it may, one of the by-products associated with what I consider a "significant weight loss" is the very scary idea of buying new clothes.

A coworker, who has become my fashion guru, about three months into my health transformation, shamed me into going to get some better fitting clothes. Needless to say, I was reluctant to embark on such a quest, bearing in mind that the clothes I have purchased in the last decade have been hoodies, sweatshirts, in the very generic XL, or, if I was really optimistic, an L.

The brilliant thing about my decision to shop for new clothes was to leave my spouse at home. He is a wonderful person, mind you, but his vision of clothing for me is nowhere near what I would ever consider wearing and he tends to spend quite a bit of time exhausting all choices before making a decision on anything. I decided to leave him at home.

The experience was great. Keeping in mind my coworker's counsel, I found some slacks I liked and took three pair in different sizes in the fitting room. Once I honed in on the correct size, it was just a matter of deciding on color and shirts that would complement them.

Not only did I find three pairs of slacks, three shirts and a jacket four sizes smaller than I had ever purchased in my life, the best part was that it was all transacted in 45 minutes. I returned home and not only did my purchases pass muster with my spouse, the next day my coworker was very pleased that I finally came to work in pants that didn't sag in the bottom.

My family was quite generous in giving me gift cards to help expand a new wardrobe, and even more generous in their comments that the next purchases should be shoes. It is at this point that I made a grave mistake. My spouse, quite firm that I am totally incapable of finding the proper shoes for work and dress occasions, started out with me on a very wet Saturday morning, gift cards in hand, to the mall to find shoes.

Bringing Tim with me was the first error; my second was trying to shop without knowing what I wanted. With the vague notion that I could not handle really high heels, I immediately scoured the shoe displays looking for sensible, functional shoes. What a learning experience to see 3-4-5 inch heels, open toe, no toe....all at prices that made my head spin. Even with the gift cards, I knew this would be a very expensive outing even if I could find shoes that worked for me.

A very nice clerk approached and asked what he could do for me. I tried to explain what exactly I wanted and after a momentary pause, the blank look passed from his face and he said he was certain he could help me. He did, however, need to go searching the stockroom and said he would be back very quickly.

In the interim, Tim went on his own search and pulled two or three styles he thought I should try. I too, on closer inspection, found a pair of wedge-style dress shoes that I thought would work. Not too high, I thought the wedge might be a nice in-between style that I could negotiate without falling and breaking an ankle, knee or hip.

Fast-forwarding to 75 minutes and 12 pairs of shoes later, I found two pair that I really liked. Ironically, both pair were three-inch heels, one functional enough to wear with slacks at work or in casual social settings. The other was a very dressy patent leather shoe but the hitch was that it fit one foot better than the other and in order to accommodate a comfortable fit, I would need to purchase shoes a size larger. The clerk, by the way, did not appreciate my suggestion of buying one of one size and the other another.

My ever helpful spouse was certain that we could do better elsewhere, so we bought the less dressy shoes and had him hold the other for me while "I thought about it."

We walked to the other side of this very large shopping mall, to another department store and studied the shoe display. Tim was not impressed; Jeannine was growing tired of the outing and I was growing tired of both. Traversing to yet another department store, where the result was about the same, Tim decided to enlist the help of our eldest daughter by phone, who gave him the name of a shoe store in another shopping center several miles away. Making the trek there was easy enough on a wet, chilly Saturday (haha) and the result was, yep, the same...he didn't like anything he saw.

We are now about 3-4 hours into this adventure and I suggested that we just go home. As there was an all-important college football game about to start, Tim agreed. Once home, I told him I would go back to the mall and retrieve the shoes I had on hold. He was welcome to stay home; and Jeannine was equally pleased not to have to go out again.

Braving the rain, to-the-bone chilling wind and post-Christmas traffic, I arrived at the mall where it took me 15 minutes to find a parking spot. I quickly puddle-jumped my way to the mall entrance, darted my way through the flowing mass of shoppers to the scene of the crime. In less time than it took to park the car, I had the shoes and was on my way home.

So I am very happy that I have embraced a healthy lifestyle that enables me to feel better and accomplish more on a daily basis with the increased energy I have found. I am also very happy to find that my spouse still cares enough about me to want to see me properly outfitted, even if it takes a whole day to find one pair of shoes.

January Hope Moves to February Action

Here it is, coming on the last week of January, and in the interest of being brave (which is one reason why I chose to start this blog), it is time to take stock. "Of what?" you may ask.

Of many things, really. I have always loved January for a variety of reasons. On a selfish level, it is the month in which I was born. It is also the month in which I was married. The fact that it is in the winter season, with the sometimes bone-chilling temperatures, the desolation of shortened daylight, the compelling bleakness of bare trees and my backyard devoid of all the colors from flowers and shrubs doesn't seem to bother me. I love being able to slow down to hibernation-mode and pad around my home in an oversized sweatshirt, slacks and thick socks, build a fire and read a book or listen to music....and let my mind mindlessly wander to things that I would like to improve in my house, my yard, my relationships and the like.

In its own way January is the most hopeful month of the year. The sorrows, frustrations and pain of the previous year are gone. A new year begins with all the resolve and energy that somehow things are going to be different. Yet how many of those dreams are quickly abandoned by the end of January (or even before) simply because of inaction? So it is time to take stock because I have decided if I don't check in with myself on a regular basis, this year will be as others before: months flying by, and at the close of those 12 months all I have to report is that I made it through another year.

I have read and heard over and over again that "if it is not written down, it won't be done." I sort of believe this is true. In all those years chasing children from school to school, managing what really was simple household, running errands and the like, I did feel so wonderfully successful as I checked things off my "goals for the day" list. The game of getting those tasks checked off was extremely important, too. If on the days that the dozen or so things I "had" to do even one thing did not get done, my day was a waste. I failed. I was somehow not the best person I should be.

Well, I stopped the "goals for the day" list many years ago, mostly because I did not want to continue to feel as if I was a failure, and it zapped my energy to sit down and write one. The other thing, too, was that I was getting far too clever at convincing myself that I had actually completed all those things on the list, when in fact, some things were only partially or minimally done. Laundry, for example, was one of those things that I could say was really "completed" even if all the clothes were merely washed and dried. What did it matter if they were not sorted and put away?

It is now apparent to me that this sort of "let life happen" approach I have been using was not getting me where I wanted to be, even though I didn't really know where that was exactly. Deciding to put into action those "mindless wanderings" of these sometimes bleak January days, I have to now take stock and see what I have accomplished. This would be much easier if I had written these things down...it does make the process of taking stock much easier.

So for what it is worth, I have one week to accomplish a (haha) "laundry list" of things, which will be miraculous since most of these things are still in my head and run the gamut of my various current careers (health coach, office manager, mom....). At least I have been brave enough to recognize what I need to do (like put my mindless wanderings into actionable goals) and look forward to moving the hope that January brings into February.

It Isn't Healthcare...It's How They Don't Care

My experience with the healthcare industry has been, for the better part of my life, consumer focused. In fact, as a child and then as a single adult, I clipped along quite well taking care of the common ailments likes colds and gastrointestinal disorders with the simple and tried and true remedies like rest and fluids. Growing up, we only visited our family doctor when the medical problem grew beyond the scope of common sense practices: when we needed stitches or clearance to play some organized sport or other. When we needed to use the system, we paid for the services at the time, much as we pay a mechanic for car repairs, or a landscaper for landscaping services and the like. The concept of medical insurance was, as all insurance used to be, something you bought or not bought depending on your perspective. For the greater part of the population, catastrophic insurance or what used to be called "major medical" was plenty. It was inexpensive but gave peace of mind.

Big business became a player in healthcare when businesses and corporations offered coverage to employees as a perk of employment. Unions have used health benefits as a bargaining chip when negotiating contracts. Insurance companies responded gleefully by offering more and more benefit plans with varying degrees of benefits and costs. As consumers relied more on their employers to provide medical insurance, they became less involved in what they actually were receiving. The result is that through the years, insurance companies, with no vested interest in anything other than a larger profit margin, began paying out fewer dollars for medical services, requiring the medical provider (whether a physician or a service entity like an imaging center or lab) to write off some of their service as a contractual obligation, or charge more for the service to cover the loss. Many people, myself included, opted out of insurance coverage, choosing to put those dollars away in a "just in case" jar and pay for medical treatment as needed. That did not last long.....

The nail in the coffin of health insurance sanity came when insurance -- not just medical insurance --became not a choice, but a legal mandate. Want a car? The law requires car insurance. Rent? Renters' insurance. Want a home? Can't be cleared for a mortgage unless you have mortgage insurance. Are you a professional of some sort? Those in trade professions are required to be licensed and bonded. Goodness knows that those persons who decide to make medicine their life and career have been required to shell out thousands and thousands of dollars each year in ever increasing increments just in case an adverse event happened to a patient, whether there was "gross negligence" or not. (This is the subject of another blog). The point is that we as consumers, and those who have chosen to help people manage their health, are being bilked out of thousands of dollars each year to the benefit of insurance CEOs, and our government (both state and federal) is complicit. This situation has greater ramifications than just the loss of consumer dollars.

I have the non-enviable position of being both a consumer of, and an employer in, a healthcare-related business. I know from experience on both sides of the sliding window (as it were) the horrors of our current healthcare situation. We see patients everyday who complain about their insurance premiums (despite their "employer paid" portion), their high deductibles (despite low premiums), their high copays (despite low premiums), and in the post-Affordable Care Act age, the lack of benefit coverage in spite of the plethora of plans. I have heard (and as an employer have seen) about plans being discontinued, to be replaced by a "comparable plan" that is (not surprising) not only at least 50% more expensive, but also offers fewer benefits. In many plans, the "insured" has to meet their deductible before the insurance will pay a dime on a claim. So the consumer not only has to pay higher and higher premiums (or portion thereof), but has to fork out even more dollars before their insurance will pay....but only if the claim is for a covered benefit. It gets worse.....

What is really so diabolical is that insurance companies have replaced trained physicians and mid-level providers in diagnosing patient medical problems. Our office sometimes spends days processing the forms and sending medical records to some insurance processor to get "approval" for medical services for our patients. If we are stonewalled, the process moves to a "nurse reviewer" and finally a "physician reviewer" who requires our providers to get on the phone (taking time away from clinic patients) in order to justify getting a heart study or a CT or a Doppler study. In the interim, the unlucky patient waits and waits, often calling us multiple times a day hoping to hear the OK to schedule the test. It seems that no matter how we try to communicate that we are doing all we can to get approval, we still bear the brunt of their frustration and anger. This is just for medical benefits: the process is even worse to get medicines approved.

The sad fact of the matter is that with all these insurance mandates and the planned confusion that comes with it, the real loser is the physician-patient relationship. Patients don't want to have to pay more on already expensive healthcare. Physicians and other providers don't want to spend their time fighting insurance companies for legitimate medical services needed to diagnose and treat their patients: they want to help their sick patients get better. The result is that most providers spend more and more time on insurance paperwork and in order to have any sort of life away from their job, they either need to see fewer patients (with the result that patients sometimes cannot be seen for several weeks out), or they see more and more patients (with the result that they spend less time with each of them). I believe that the majority of physicians, nurse practitioners and physician assistants chose their profession in order to make a difference in the lives of those who seek their care, but the system has been rigged against developing the kind of human relationship needed to really know, understand and care for people to make that difference.

None of this stands to reason. When I am sick, I expect to be able to seek out medical care and it should not cost an arm and a leg. As a consumer, I expect that my healthcare dollars will be available when I need them and for whatever I legitimately need. As for my provider, I should expect that she should be paid according to her experience, time and skill, and not have to "write off" a significant portion of her fee to be pocketed by some insurance administrator or suit, or to improve an insurance company's bottom line.

So for what it is worth, I will likely continue to shell out thousands of dollars each month for health insurance, continue to commiserate with patients and medical professionals about the sad state of affairs, and will continue to wonder how it ever happened that health insurance became a "right" when it is not specifically mentioned in any constitution, whether state or federal. I will also keep praying that consumers wake up and push back against this travesty, or that the whole system will implode and we can begin again with more sane minds managing the system.

Well-behaved Women

Bumper stickers can speak volumes about the person who own the vehicle. Apart from the free political advertising that adorns many car bumpers, we can be easily entertained while tooling through town or across the country by clever wing dings that challenge us to COEXIST, encourage support of one sports team or another, and my favorite: the humorous sayings with a subtle philosophical edge. The one that I have seen quite frequently of late is that insipid statement that "Well-behaved women seldom make history."

I fully understand the point: the bumper sticker owner wants us to believe that in order for a woman to achieve anything of value in this world, she must set aside convention and embrace that which is not typically considered "womanly." We are expected to believe that unless the woman was a revolutionary of some sort....Susan B. Anthony, Nancy Pelosi, Hillary Clinton, Miley Cyrus.....in other words, some radical who challenges societal norms, her impact on the world is unremarkable. I would challenge this opinion.

History is rich with the women who, without defying convention, have made significant contributions to the world in a variety of areas: science, music, writing, the arts, politics and religion. Let me focus on three women, whose lives were played out in the world of politics and religion, yet whose impact has been long standing.

The author Irving Stone wrote a book about the relationship between John and Abigail Adams, Those Who Love. In this relationship, we see a woman leading a more or less conventional life for the time in which she lived: she was a wife and a mother, and endured all the suffering that comes with trying to keep life normal for her children while her spouse was involved in standing against convention and advocating for American freedom. From the "confines" of her vocation as wife and mother, Abigail Adams both challenged and supported her husband's opinions and actions as he argued in favor of American Independence, and later in the establishment of our country. She was an influential guide as a mother (sometimes a single mother), having a son who later became President of the United States. Her influence on American history is deep and reaching, yet there were no splashy headlines about her; she did not challenge societal norms regarding the role of women. Living and loving in the scope of her calling as a wife and mother, Abigail Adams is one of my favorite role models. I would consider her a "well-behaved woman" of her times and for all times, and she is remembered in history.

In the world of religion, Thursday, December 4, the Catholic Church celebrated the feast of my patron saint, St. Barbara. According to traditional sources, St. Barbara led a pure and virtuous life, committing herself to serving God as a Christian, and sacrificing a life in the world for one of service to Him. She vowed to remain a virgin, but was ultimately sacrificed at the hands of her father, a pagan, who wanted her to marry against her will. One could argue that she chose to defy convention, which really dictated that she honor her father's wishes and marry (for his convenience). Did she really?

She defied her father. She defied the convention of the time, which would have her living in the world as a wife and mother. She stood strong in her belief and in her love for God. Was she a "well-behaved woman?" I would argue that she, and countless thousands of women, who chose to serve God above the conventions of the world, and who are among the canonized saints of the Church because of their love and piety, truly is a "well-behaved woman."

In our own time, we have a wonderful woman who illustrates that being "well-behaved" does not lessen your impact on history: Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta.  Like St. Barbara, Blessed Mother Teresa chose a higher calling than many women today. Quietly, calmly and very much under the radar of headlines and the glare of the media spotlight, Blessed Mother Teresa's impact on the souls under her care is profound. They, and all women who are honored by the Church as saints, are great role models for me as well.

So for what it's worth, the idea that someone, a woman in particular, has to be an attention-getter in order to make history is really rather short-sighted.

Skyscapes, Sunsets and Jeannine

The other night a friend and I stepped outside my house and he commented, "I like to look at my favorite artist's work," and his gaze directed me to a fantastic sunset. This actually was less a sunset as it was a skyscape, as the houses in the neighborhood obscured a better view of the sun setting over the Coast Range in Oregon. Be that as it may, the rose hues, mauves and purples mingled with the golden sunlight and clouds of a winter afternoon, providing a stunning backdrop to the large and majestic conifers which landscaped my neighbors' yards.

"God is my favorite artist," he stated simply. I have to agree. While we can blend paint colors to create wonderful landscape paintings or carefully orchestrate a camera lens to snap a photo, these pale in comparison to the original: a daily gift we receive if we are open to appreciating it.

I admit that I have not always appreciated sunrises, sunsets and the skycapes we can see each day. It was only about four or five years ago that my fascination with these daily gifts piqued, and my awareness increased. It was not just in Oregon, either. We traveled to Colorado by car a few years ago, and from my vantage point in the back set, I was able to snap dozens and dozens of skycapes from Oregon, through Idaho, Utah, Wyoming and finally Colorado. From sunrises and sunsets, to thunderstorms brewing across the flat landscape of Wyoming and the towering peaks in the Rocky Mountains, I had a grand time with my digital camera, and it seemed that nothing was escaping my notice and need to create these keepsakes.

On our return, my backseat companion and young daughter, Jeannine, asked if she could look at the pictures I had taken on the trip. Or so I thought. After about a half hour I asked for the camera, as a particularly interesting cloud formation caught my eye. I quickly snapped the picture and looked to see if it was satisfactory. Happy with the result, I decided to review the photos I had taken along the trip. To my surprise and dismay, all of my photos were gone. The only pictures left in memory were those of Jeannine: with her friends or family, or just her alone.

It seemed that life had intervened and Jeannine had spent the last half hour not just looking at the pictures, but deleting any photos not related to her. Rather than becoming annoyed and upset about what had just happened (although it was frustrating), I had to take a deep breath and admire what she did. You see, Jeannine has Down syndrome, and we spend quite a bit of time attempting to move her to activities of daily living...like getting out of bed in the morning and taking a shower or brushing her teeth. When it comes to technology, however, she has a facility of mind that will surpass even her typical peers. She figured out how to not only move from shot to shot, but took it upon herself to manage my photos with the thing that is most important -- her.

So I still have the gift of sunrises and sunsets to see and appreciate, but perhaps the greatest gift I have been given by the greatest Artist of all is Jeannine. The challenge is to be able to appreciate.

Branching Out of the Comfort Zone

It is difficult to believe that we have entered into the final month of 2014. For most of us it has been a roller-coaster ride of enormous speed, twists, turns and topsy-turvy events. Many among my acquaintance cannot wait until 2015 bursts forth from the future into present time; others are not so sure. This past year has been one of self-reflection for me, as life has intervened and required more action and planning on my part than I have ever remembered. In this last month, December 2014, I am not waiting for the ball to drop or the champagne corks to pop to take on some new directions in my life.

I have never been a person to seek out challenges, plan a course of action and follow through on it, or take on something that could not be concluded in a week or less. Generally speaking, I have just let life happen and have made choices based on what seemed to be reasonable at the time. I have to say that this method of getting through life worked quite well for me....until these last few years. As my children have grown, parents have aged or passed to a better place, and business changes, it dawned on me that I should be more brave. Starting this blog is one of my firsts acts of courage and determination to step out of the shadows to see where it takes me.

The first thing that I have noticed in this step into the sun, as it were, is that there are many creative people out and about. It took me 20 minutes to find a .blogspot name that wasn't taken, but at the same time one that I could easily remember. Trying to settle on a theme was another challenge: perhaps unlike most people, I don't have a "passion" for anything in particular. I have friends who love to garden; I have friends who love anything that has to do with knitting or yarn work; I have friends who are passionate about wine and food. I have secretly admired them for years because I just could not find anything that interested me enough to pursue as a hobby.

So I took to heart an exercise I read about whose purpose was to help me identify and focus on what mattered most, what talents and abilities were sitting dormant inside just waiting be born. After this self reflection and writing down all my interests (it is harder than it sounds), step two required that I go to those people who know me best and find out what they see in me that I can't. It was very telling that my spouse of 31 years had a difficult time coming up with anything apart from a great talent to argue with him. Other opinions are still pending, which does not bode well. Could I be one of those persons born with absolutely no talent and ability other than to breathe? Wow, the realization is quite humbling.

In a previous life I taught writing and grammar to middle schoolers. I liked teaching it, and in the course of this labor I discovered that I also liked writing. Through the years I have written essays on many topics, but was not brave enough to throw these musings out into the marketplace. A few were published in the local paper, but the hope that some "brilliant editor" would read these wonders of the pen and offer me a job never materialized.

So for what it's worth, this last month of 2014 is the beginning of a braver, more focused, goal setting and goal achieving me. I hope you follow along.