First Times and Last Times

Life is filled with firsts and lasts. Most people commemorate firsts with great fanfare, knowing their significance in the moment. We seldom realize that a last is occurring until after the fact - usually not until LONG after the fact.

Most of us can recall our first crush, first date, first kiss, first concert, first car, first airplane ride.....

Most parents remember in great detail their first pregnancy, that baby's first smile, first tooth, first steps, etc. 

Do you remember your last first date? Your last time to attend Bible School? Your last high school ballgame? 

How about the last time your child sat in your lap? The last time you sat in YOUR parent's lap? Or the last time you sang silly songs in the car with your siblings? Or the last time your whole family of origin was together as a unit? Do you remember the last time you sat and talked to your father? The last time you visited your grandparents? How about the last time you got a lollipop for being good at the doctor's office?

Did I know at the time that when I hung up the phone that day it was the last time I'd ever talk to my sister on this earth? Do you know that yesterday was the last time you would pick up your child in your arms? Are you aware when your teenager asks for advice that this is the last time you'll advise her? Do we know as we drive away from a gathering of friends and family that we'll never be in a gathering with exactly that same group again? Do we know when the last time was that you ate a piece of cake made by your mother? Or the last time she made you a birthday cake? Do you remember the last time you held your Mother's hand to cross the road? Or your child's? 

I just finished an activity I know to be a "last time." I hemmed a garment for the last time today. I have hemmed hundreds of garments since I first learned to sew as a pre-teen. Today, at age 81 1/2 I hemmed my last garment. Since my retinal stroke a year ago, my near focus needing eye-hand coordination is severely handicapped. Also the arthritis in my hands has progressed very rapidly in the last few years. I cannot focus well enough and I do not have the manual dexterity any more to be able to hem a garment. 

More later - just first thoughts on this topic....

God, Grace, Gratitude, and Gravy

 I would like to be able to see my father and mother face to face this morning to thank them for the multitude of loving things those two young people did to provide a good life for me, a child they had when they were themselves barely more than children.  Alas, Daddy moved beyond our Earthly reach in 1986 at age 67 1/2; and Mother made that journey in 2021 at age 98 1/2. My six aging siblings and I are in the process of liquidating and distributing the last of their belongings and settling the last of their business. 

I woke up 11 mornings ago.  I woke up. While I had slept, two small blood clots had broken loose in my bloodstream. Had they traveled a different path, I might not have awakened that morning. Or I might have awakened a paraplegic or a physical shell without mental capacity. As it was, I woke up blind in my right eye. One small clot had passed through the central retinal artery and lingered long enough to deprive my right retina of oxygen. It was without oxygen long enough to leave that retina unable to interpret light. The other clot apparently just kissed a spot in the front of my brain and left a tiny footprint there. 

In the ten days since this life adjustment, I have been repeatedly aware of how a great a gift my parents gave me by raising me in a Christian home. A Christian home in the truest sense of those words. Mother sang hymns as she worked around the house. She made sure we knew how important it was to live in accordance with God's desires for our lives; we were constantly reminded in words as well as actions that God has desires for our lives because He loves us so much.  Daddy made a point of spending time alone with each of his children, and that time was often spent in the car as he traveled between different responsibilities of his own or delivered us to one of our activities. In the car on the way to whatever, we  had meaningful conversations and even often sang and discussed hymns or Bible passages. He always seemed very interested in hearing my thoughts on whatever the topic was. He was seldom in lecturer mode. Without fail, when we arrived at our destination (meeting, visit, class, whatever) he would thank God audibly (or ask me to do so) for our safe travel and for our relationship with Him and each other. I took all that very much for granted. It was just our lives. 

And of course, as a Christian family in the forties, fifties and sixties, our lives centered around church. That entailed four church contacts every Sunday - Sunday School, morning worship, evening children/youth activities, even worship service. During the week, a Wednesday night meeting was a minimum of other church contact. Each of these instilled important words/concepts in my mind and memory. Bible verses heard, explained, discussed, memorized. Hymn and song lyrics sung, repeated, memorized, pondered. 

All that background work, done by two young parents through the years, has risen up and proclaimed its value in my life during the last eleven days. Since this huge change in my lifestyle, since I can no longer read or write or paint for any length of time, I have been very grateful for all the "words of life" planted firmly in my head by young parents who loved God enough to parent beyond their human capabilities. 

My entire childhood experience is of parents ages 18-35! That is an amazing realization for me! 

• When I was 3, my mother was the age of Ethan (Lyn's youngest.) 

• When I was in Junior High (long before the advent of Middle Schools), my mother was the age of Rachael (Steve's oldest.) 

But, back to my main point of interest this morning: My mind is fully stocked with important words of life. While concentrating on not coughing or moving during my MRI last week, my mind recited the prayer of confession from the old Methodist Communion Ritual. I've always loved those beautiful words of confession. I am grateful that they are mine on demand. "We acknowledge and bewail the manifold sins and wickedness....."
So to twenty-something cotton-mill town Charles and Ruth Baird Shaw, from 60 years ago, THANK YOU! I LOVE YOU. I MISS YOU. You did right by your children. 

Panic Attack

 Deadlines for Writers 2022-01P Air: 

Panic Attack

 

My hearing dims;

My vision skews.

All color morphs to grays and blues.

 

My throat closes;

My hands clench too

My chest is tight. What can I do?

 

I flush hot.

My face turns red.

Then chills run through my limbs instead.

 

No! Not now!

Life’s so hard.

I want to fight with no holds barred.

 

I’ll run away;

I can’t stay here.

Cant stop that ringing in my ears.

 

I can’t go on.

Life’s so unfair.

I struggle hard to take in air.

 

My every breath is full of pain

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Okay. Again.

 

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I crave the air.

 

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Dispel despair.

 

Breathe in and hold it.

One, two, three,

Breathe slowly out

Think of the sea.

 

My heartbeat slows;

My vision clears;

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Now I can hear.

 

My fists unclench;

My stomach calms

The tingling leaves my legs and arms.

 

I look around.

The color’s back.

Just another panic attack.  

A Fit Artist

The Early-Morning Misadventures of a Wannabe Fit Artist:  I had been up and restless since 2:00, so at daylight, after riding the stationary bike for 30 minutes, I thought it would be cool enough to walk outside today. So I ventured forth to Conasauga Lake with the essentials plus water-color pencils, some blank greeting cards, and a pill bottle full of water in my bag. 

Parking my truck and gathering my supplies, I carefully tiptoed through the manifold goose droppings and walked about 1/4 of the way around the lake before realizing it is NOT cool enough to walk in the sun, even this early. I found a shady bench and sat down to sketch an impression of my view from the bench, but the ants and mosquitoes, persistent as toddlers, drove me to dance my way back through the goose droppings to my truck. So it’s back to the air conditioned mall to walk or home to ride the stationary bike again, I suppose.

HEADACHE

How the did word "headache" ever come to mean a minor irritation? Example: "Keeping track of bills is a real headache!" Certainly many headaches are just irritations - I have had many of those in my lifetime. However, there are also HEADACHES! I have had a few of those too.

Along with my virtually continuous "headaches" throughout most of my adult life, I used to have 8 or 10 HEADACHES a year; but in recent years both have decreased in frequency. I only have headaches a couple of times a week now and seldom have HEADACHES. Yesterday was a 24-hour, relentless, I'm-the-boss.-Just-submit HEADACHE of a HEADACHE! Nothing helped. I couldn't sit, stand, lie down or even sleep. Sleeping has historically been my major remedy -- I could usually go to sleep and wake up with the HEADACHE gone or greatly diminished. Yesterday, I couldn't do anything but moan and groan and squint. My teeth hurt, my ears hurt, my eyes hurt, my neck hurt. Yesterday I considered going to the emergency room; but I have done that twice in the last 50 years and accomplished nothing except having to sit and moan in a public hospital waiting room instead of in the comfort of my own home.

When I finally went to sleep last night (this morning), I slept reasonably well and woke up this morning exhausted and with a regular headache; but I am so grateful that the HEADACHE is gone for now! Can I hear a "Poor Baby!!!" ?

A New Way to Exercise!

I saw this item in the news recently.

Noah Shachtman, "Be More Than You Can Be,"

Wired, March, 2007, pp. 114-118.

"I've spent the last 40 minutes on a treadmill angled at a 9 percent grade. My face is chili-red, my shirt soaked with sweat. ... Then Dennis Grahn, a lumpy Stanford University biologist and former minor league hockey player, walks into the room. He nods in my direction and smiles at the technician. 'Looks like he's ready,' Grahn says. He takes my hand and slips it into a clear coffee-pot looking contraption he calls the Glove. Inside is a hemisphere of metal, cool to the touch. He tightens a seal around my hand, and the cold metal chills my blood before it travels through my veins back to my core. After five minutes, I feel rejuvenated. ... I keep going for another half hour. ... "

Grahn and his research partner, biologist Craig Heller, started working on the Glove at Stanford in the late 1990s as part of their research on improving physical performance. Even they were astounded at how well it seemed to work. Vinh Cao, their squat, barrel-chested lab technician, used to do almost 100 pull-ups every time he worked out. Then one day he cooled himself off with an early prototype. The next round of pull-ups--his 11th--was a strong as his first. Within six weeks, Cao was doing 180 pull-ups a session. Six weeks after that, he went from 180 to more than 600. ...

"In trying to figure out why the Glove worked so well, its inventors ended up challenging conventional scientific wisdom on fatigue. Muscles don't wear out because they use up stored sugars, the researchers said. Instead, muscles tire because they get too hot, and sweating is just a back-up cooling system for the lattices of blood vessels in the hands and feet. The Glove, in other words, overclocks the heat exchange system. 'It's like giving a Honda the radiator of a Mack truck,' Heller says. After four months of using it himself, Heller did 1,000 push-ups on his 60th birthday in April 2003.

What do you think? Have you heard more about this?

Root Canal? Crown? Coming Right Up!

Uh Oh! I just broke a tooth! A little while ago, when I finished chewing and swallowing my Viactive calcium supplement, I discovered that a filling and some tooth are missing in the very back of the top left! I guess that is a wisdom tooth, isn't it? I must have swallowed the filling; and we haven't found a new dentist since we moved here. I went back to our old dentist a month or so ago for a checkup and everything seemed okay then. Of course, there is no dentist here in town who is on our insurance plan, so I played eeny meeny miney moe and picked a dentist and called for an appointment. I feel sure that this is going to call for a crown or a root canal or something more drastic than just a filling, since there is virtually no tooth left in that spot; so I might have to travel to a dentist who is on our plan. Or maybe since it is in the very back it can just be extracted without consequence.

And the fun just never stops rolling!

Nutrition Month

I understand that March has been designated National Nutrition Month. Back in 1973 nutrition was given a WEEK, but later it was extended to include the entire month of March. The American Dietetic Association, in honor of the month, released a list of 34 tips to help folks eat right. I know this because I saw it in black and white in the daily newspaper.

Well, friends, in case your local paper also picks up this article and runs with it, let me save you some time. Don't waste your time reading the list. (Disclaimer: The American Dietetic Association is, no doubt, a worthy organization. I am quite sure that they do good work.) That being said, it also has to be said that originality and deep thought are not the strong points of the organization. It's not that there is anything wrong with the list; it's just that..... who doesn't already know this stuff?

The list includes such revolutionary ideas as:

#7 Eat fresh, canned or frozen fruits for a sweet dessert. See what I mean? Is there a person on planet Earth that doesn't know that an apple is better nutrition than a brownie?

#13 Enjoy high calorie foods in moderation: moderation isn't deprivation. Don't we all hide the evidence when we eat the whole bag of oreos? We KNOW moderation would have been better. Burying the empty bag in the very bottom of the trashcan is an admission of guilt. Going out and buying another bag, eating TWO OREOs out of it, placing the appropriately-used bag on the shelf so the family can witness your restraint -- these are admissions of guilty knowledge.

#20 Make lunch your largest meal of the day and eat a smaller dinner. Is it possible someone hasn't heard that advice? Teachers would have a hard time eating their largest meal of the day during their 20 minute lunch period while herding 20-something children, answering forty-leven questions, stopping food fights, greeting visiting parents, handing out birthday cupcakes sent by a parent, moving Johnny away from Eric, etc. Heck, she/he's lucky to finish his/her sandwich while lining the kids up to return to the classroom.

As I said, the American Dietetic Association gave us good rules to follow for good nutrition, just as these are good rules for taking care of your teeth. #1 brush teeth three times a day, #2 floss teeth at least daily, #3 see your dentist twice a year. Who doesn't know this?

Anyway if you have been living on this planet for a few years, if your significant other doesn't have to remind you to breathe every few seconds, and if you don't have to keep a "list" on the dashboard of the car to remind you to shift out of neutral before shifting to reverse and attempting to back up the car, I firmly believe that you can safely assume that you know what you need to know about basic nutrition. So, your friendly reading advisor here suggests that you can save the time it would take to read the list. If, however, you know that your family's eating habits are not leading you toward centennial birthday celebrations, it might be that your could use a reminder or two. In that case go ahead and read it. I did.

Mammogram Day

In honor of my annual mammogram scheduled for this afternoon, here's a little humor

This first piece came in an email. I have found it on the internet in a dozen places, it is not credited to any author that I can find.

Many women are afraid of their first mammogram, but there is no need to worry. By taking a few minutes each day for a week preceding the exam and doing the following exercises, you will be totally prepared for the test! Best of all, these simple exercises can be done at home.

Exercise 1: Open your refrigerator door and insert one breast in the door. Have one of your strongest friends slam the door shut and lean on it for good measure. Hold that position for 5 seconds. Repeat with other breast.

Exercise 2: Visit your garage at 3am when the temperature of the cement floor is just perfect. Remove your clothes and lie comfortably on the floor with one breast wedged under the rear tire of the car. Ask a friend to slowly back up the car until your breast is sufficiently flattened and chilled. Turn over and repeat for the other breast.

Exercise 3: Freeze two metal bookends overnight. Strip to the waist. Invite a stranger into the room. Press the bookends against one of your breasts. Ask the stranger to smash the bookends together as hard as they can. Set an appointment with the stranger to meet next year and do it again.You are now properly prepared!

I found the following story here.

POWER OUTAGE DURING A MAMMOGRAM:

I actually kept my mammogram appointment. I was met with, "Hi! I'm Belinda!" This perky clipboard carrier smiled from ear to ear, tilted her head to one side and crooned, "All I need you to do is step into this room right here, strip to the waist, then slip on this gown. Everything clear? I'm thinking, "Belinda, try decaf. This ain't rocket science." Belinda skipped away to prepare the chamber of horrors.

With the right side finished, Belinda flipped me (literally) to the left and said, "Hmmmm. Can you stand on your tippy toes and lean in a tad so we can get everything?' Fine, I answered. I was freezing, bruised, and out of air, so why not use the remaining circulation in my legs and neck and finish me off?

My body was in a holding pattern that defied gravity (with my other boob wedged between those two 4 inch pieces of square glass) when we heard, then felt a zap! Complete darkness and the power went off! "Oh, maintenance is working. Bet they hit a snag." Belinda headed for the door. "Excuse me! You're not leaving me in this vise alone are you?" I shouted. Belinda kept going and said, "Oh, you fussy puppy...the door's wide open so you'll have the emergency hall lights. I'll be right back."Before I could shout "NOOOO!" she disappeared.

And that's exactly how Bubba and Earl, maintenance men extraordinaire, found me, half-naked and part of me dangling from the Jaws of Life and the other part smashed between glass! ! After exchanging polite "Hi, how's it going" type greetings, Bubba (or possibly Earl) asked, to my utter disbelief, if I knew the power was off. Trying to disguise my hysteria, I replied with as much calmness as possible "Uh, yes, yes I did thanks."

"You bet, take care" Bubba replied and waved good-bye as though I'd been standing in the line at the grocery store. Two hours later, Belinda breezes in wearing a sheepish grin and making no attempt to suppress her amusement, she said, "Oh I am sooo sorry!" The power came back on and I totally forgot about you! And silly me, I went to lunch. Are we upset?" And that, Your Honor, is exactly how her head ended up between the clamps....

And last from this site:

I'd marked it as "Fun Day at the O.K. Corral" on my calendar. Time for my annual mammogram. Whooppee. The only thing that terrorized me more was when I erroneously received an envelope which stated that my pregnancy tests results were enclosed. (I'd just celebrated my 61ST birthday.)

On this cloudy winter day a few months ago, I pasted on a fake happy face and headed to 1600 Sadistic Street where the brick fortress known as Mammograms R Us thrust out its jagged tentacles and grabbed unsuspecting damsels who drove innocently by in their Volvos. I shrunk to half my height as I dragged my terrified self from my car into the sterile, impersonal building. In the waiting room, hiding behind dog-eared copies of the outdated and improbable Field and Stream Magazine, trembling women of every age waited for their names to blast out over the speaker system summoning them to the Execution chamber.

After three hours, fourteen minutes and six seconds (but who was counting?), I was dragged kicking and screaming through a door marked Thugs Only into a meat freezer with the temperature set at 160 degrees below zero. Nurse Ratchett appeared, demanded that I disrobe, and handed me an 8 inch blue paper handkerchief with a string to cover my entire goose-bumped, freezing body.

She left me alone for 45 minutes while I peeled ice chunks off my arms and tied my jaw shut to keep from chattering all my teeth loose. Finally, I was led into the mammography chamber and forced to stand without my paper handkerchief in front of a tall, imposing metal drill press with a brass name plate carefully inscribed: Patented in 1939 by Adolph Hitler. Nurse Ratchett placed my frozen left breast on the drill press and lowered a 40 inch metal steam roller to flatten it to a pita pocket size. I was left trapped in this position screaming, passing out and invoking the wrath of God on her while she casually smoked a cigarette in the back room for 30 minutes.

Finally, she emerged from her break and snapped a picture of me in my agony which appeared the following month in Torture Magazine with an accompanying article, "How To Turn Innocent Women Into Raving Maniacs For Fun and Profit." Nurse Ratchet scooped up my unconscious, limp body from the floor, still attached by one
flattened piece of breast to the menacing metal drill press above.

She repeated the procedure on the right breast while my 986-decibel screams were fed into a Sony S-116 recording device to be used to incite warring tribes of New Guinea to riot. This time she only spent 20 minutes smoking a cigarette before she pressed the button to take a color photo of my breast.

The procedure completed, I was led without my blue paper handkerchief covering to an ice-covered plastic chair in the freezer locker. I tried not to misinterpret Nurse Ratchet's announcement to a passing nurse, "OMIGOSH, can you believe these test results?" The last thing I remember before fainting again were these comforting words: "We thought we might have to repeat your test but we don't. You're fine." Plunk.

So my agenda for the day is: 9:30 AM yearly gynocology exam (I could tell a few jokes here too!); 10:30 AM annual checkup with my Primary Care Physician; 3:00 Mammogram! 5:30 fellowship dinner at church. So say a little prayer for me today!