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Posts Tagged ‘Health’

At 2:30 this morning an electrician with dreadlocks and I were taking eye tests with the chart on the wall. Did you know 20/20 is not the best vision? Apparently not, because if you can read two lines down (even smaller print) you are 20/10. We did not know that.

I also didn’t know an ER room could go so long without cleaning. There was a layer of grime on the waste baskets, bed controls and certainly the floor. I kept my hands in my pockets and used hand cleaner frequently.

While the electrician with the eye problem and I entertained ourselves in the hall, my poor son waited for relief from his back pain. He has had therapy since his bad automobile accident a few months ago, but physical work yesterday erased all that apparently. So with endless re-runs of “Earl” and “Sex in the City” on the TV, I alternately rubbed his back and exercised my legs and feet—well, as much as I could without touching walls or anything. We were there for five hours, from 10 p.m. to 3 a.m. My tote of magazines helped for a while, but articles started looking familiar.

While my son did paper work earlier I discovered that many in the waiting room were just there to see their 70 year-old-grandmother who was experiencing her first heart attack. My son wanted to know how I knew what was going on with people. Simple. We talk.

Going back in the night even earlier, I spied my son in a chair just inside the door of the ER waiting room, but had to go through security check before entering. No one was doing checks, so I finally sat down. When the policeman returned I got up and put my tote bag on the table as well as my purse. I was asked to open the tote, which I did. He shined a flashlight on the reading material and OK’d it. I raised my arms facing, then not facing while the wand waved past my body. Cleared. That was a relief since I had a pop-out razor on my keychain (in purse), a nail clipper and serrated defensive flashlight in the tote. One patient did have to take his pocket knife back to his car before entering, but that had been in his pocket. He should have had a man purse – or not.

The challenge when my son was released was finding an open pharmacy at 3 a.m. There were none within ten miles of the hospital. My son stopped at one near his home in a neighboring town on the way home. There are a lot of things wrong with the health care system and cracks are beginning to show even more. Apparently hospitals are cutting back on cleaning (if this one is representative), we never saw a doctor, only nurse, and you still can’t easily fill a prescription at 3 a.m. Don’t get sick and stay out of accidents, people.

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The Tomorrow Diet

Sorry I’ve been away, but my wonderful Texas niece paid us a visit and we have been showing her our real Florida. What do you do after entertaining? Diet, of course. My husband and I are on what we call “The Tomorrow Diet.” No, it’s not like the “I’m Starting Monday Diet.” We always eat according to South Beach rules, but last weeks paper touted a new method. You eat only 30% of your normal intake one day and anything you want the next. So tomorrow is always only a day away. The psychology of it is simple and brilliant. Who can’t wait one day to pig out? Who can’t get through ONE day of deprivation? I lost between 1 and 1 1/2 lbs. in a couple of days and my husband gained. This is starting to grow on me already. How many diets favor the female of the species? Today was deprivation day so I’m ready to chew the legs off the table, but tomorrow we can have roast lamb sandwiches left over from pig out day.

I’ll keep you posted if anyone is interested.

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beda70thbd-0051.jpgbeda70thbd-0041.jpgJack Jack LaLanne, my role model, on his 70th birthday swam 1.5 miles handcuffed and shackled while towing 70 boats with 70 people from Queen’s Way Bridge in the Long Beach Harbor to the Queen Mary.

I think I’ll pass, but on my 70th there should be something I can do to honor his influence in my life. So check out these pictures taken today of the pose I held for 70 seconds. It’s the best I could do, Jack.

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Look at them strutting around like bantam roosters at the Thanksgiving table, those little babies you made eat what was good for them. Well, now they are heads of their own families, thank you very much, and don’t have to listen to your table rules. No more tomatoes for them, never again. Oh, they had to eat them growing up or go without catsup. You reminded them catsup was also tomatoes, so if you don’t eat it in macaroni and beef and all the other dishes, no catsup for you. Ah, but they are kings and queens of their tables now and there are no tomatoes to be seen in their homes. They will never again drink your Kool Aid with only half the sugar called for. They will have the soft drinks denied them. And none of that healthful butter spread; only real butter for them. The list goes on and on. So much for feeding your children right.

Okay, they do still like sprouts like the ones you raised under the kitchen sink and they didn’t complain about the soybean sandwich spreads or wild onion you clipped from the yard. They loved the wild blackberries they picked for your cobblers. Your pumpkin bread is still a favorite. Even the roasted pumpkinseeds excite their taste buds.

A funny thing happened on their way to independence, though; they turned forty. Their mother can no longer rule their table, but their doctor can. They’ve kept fast food places in business for twenty years, and the piper must be paid. You’re sorry the truth of nutrition was announced to them in such a rude way, and that you didn’t get it across in the right manner, but are so glad they get it now and are adopting a healthy eating style. You know “you are what you eat.” You even know who said it first: Gaylord Hauser. His book has been in your kitchen for almost fifty years.

So here’s to the healthy next sixty years of your lives, Kids — except for this Thursday when we eat for the pure joy of eating. Happy Thanksgiving!

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