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Showing posts from January, 2014

Take that, sarcopenia!

I am all-too familiar with osteoarthritis which destroyed the hip my husband recently had replaced. But, it took an email from the folks at BeStrongBeFree to school me on sarcopenia, the gradual deterioration of muscle mass in pretty much everyone over 60. For the record, I'm 58, but reading this description of sarcopenia convinced me I've had a mild case for a couple years. I'm definitely stiffer than I used to be after sitting a while. I do that Tim Conway grandpa shuffle on the way to the bathroom in the morning. And, my muscles seem to be more sore after a workout than ever before. What's a boomer to do? This guy knows.
His name is Neil Short and he designed a strength-training program to combat sarcopenia which, of course, he wants to sell. What's different about this program is that you can go to the website and try the exercises, simply demonstrated on video, before you buy. I've seen most of the moves before. In fact, I do several of them in the pool. B…

Now, where were we?

For the dead of January, I have a surprising amount of catching up to do after nine days away. First, the hubby is taking to his new hip like Madonna to Botox. (I'll get to that later.)  He's been cleared to drive and to take his daily sauna. And, no more TED hose, aka the bane of my existence. The main problem now is boredom, which is climbing to record levels. There just aren't enough books and basketball games in the world. It's an issue. That's all I'll say. So, let's move on to Madonna at the Grammy's...
I feel for her, having to perform with a cane and all. (I have deep sympathy for the lame.) But, holy toxins, people! This Botox madness has got to stop. She looks like a wax museum statue of herself. And now, she's teaming up with Miley Cyrus?! Why can't these divas just age gracefully? (I guess I've had some pent-up snarkiness in the last nine days. Sorry.)
  As I might have mentioned fifty times before, our son moved to the Big Apple…

Aaaaand...I'm back!

It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind and that's what I did with regards to moving to another platform. Turns out, it wasn't necessary right now. What I did do is spend the last several days investigating new platforms for my "vanity site" which had been neglected for six years, at least. The profile photo I was using was way older than that. Who was I trying to kid?
 For those of you who are interested, I used to design a simple site that easily accommodates my content, including multimedia. Here is my site, as it looks right now. I highly recommend Wix for web design newbies like me. I'm still working on propagating my domain. (Is that like saying "sowing my wild oats?') But, I trust that will magically happen in the next 48 hours. Anyway, thanks for your patience while I figured all of this stuff out. I've missed blogging, and I've missed you.

T.G.I. Milestone Day!

Field trip

I won't lie to you, folks. This constant togetherness and chauffeuring is hard work.  It's not like we're on vacation. Hell, it's Kansas in January! Look "Kansas in January" up in your Merriam-Webster. It's the direct antonym for "vacation." Frankly, I'm looking at the next four weeks with increasing dread. How desperate have I gotten? The photo below tells the story. That's right. I agreed to drive the patient to Home Depot...AND go in. For the record, if you have to go to the Depot, 1:30 p.m. is the best time to go. I hope never to test that particular theory again.

The parking pass: One upside to the misery

After the physical therapist left this morning, the patient and I looked at each other as if to say, "Now, what the hell are we going to do?" "Let's have ourselves an outing," I said in my best Julie Andrews as Mary Poppins voice. "Capital idea," he replied, just like Dick Van Dyke. (Not really. That would have been way too satisfying. He just said, "Yeah, okay.") First, we went to the courthouse to procure our temporary disabled parking placards (one for the car, one for my purse), then off to lunch where we parked directly in front of the restaurant and didn't even have to feed the meter. It was thrilling, I tell you! (Not really. But, I'm trying very hard to be "glass half-full" here. We've got another full month to get through together.)

Caregiver's Day Out

It was the perfect day. Sunshine, 72 degrees. A great opportunity to head to Kansas City, grab a girlfriend, go to lunch at Port Fonda, and make a Costco run. After being cooped up for ten days, I can't tell you how good that felt. And tasted.
I didn't even worry about my patient until I was driving home, groceries in tow. Was he okay? Did he miss me? What if he fell down in the backyard and is writhing around on the ground right now?!? Pulling into the garage, I saw this:
He might have enjoyed Caregiver's Day Out better than the caregiver.

Goin' bananas, gluten-free!

It's Saturday. The basketball game's on. Hubs' hip is still on the mend. I had four almost rotten bananas. So, I made this bodacious banana bread that's gluten free and with half the sugar. Here's the recipe. I used all brown rice flour and a stevia-sugar combo. Oh, and I threw in a tablespoon of cinnamon. Only the teeniest stevia aftertaste prevents me from giving this recipe a perfect 10.  I just presented the patient a warm slice, buttered to perfection. He paid me a compliment so sexy, I'd be embarrassed to repeat it here. Things are looking up! Of course, it doesn't hurt that the home team is hammering our in-state rivals.

Now, that's a nice rack!

1 week post-op and counting...and counting....

Me: I'm leaving you.
Him: Where will you go? What will you do?
Me: I don't know. Costco? Sephora, maybe? I just need to get out of here.
Him: Has it been that bad, our time together?
Me: No, the first week hasn't been bad at all. I just need some retail therapy. Caregiver's respite. It's not you, it's me.
Him: But, you'll come back...right?
Me: Absolutely.
Him: Would you pick up some beer while you're out?
Me: Of course. Small price to pay.

Hair apparent

Enough about the hub's new hip and son's new big city life. It's all about me today. I've decided to grow out my hair this year. The short 'do was great when I was working and didn't have time to fuss. Now, I want longer tresses to play around with, for variety's sake. (I'm a Sagittarius. I get bored easily.) But, which 'look' should I try? I turned to Taaz Virtual Makeover where I uploaded a head shot and tried on celebrity hair for grins...and a few guffaws.
You can also change the color of your hair, so I switched to Platinum since it was the closest to my silver/gray/blond color...
 The Taaz site also features other makeover tools, too, including teeth whitening and make-up. It's the perfect little diversion for a stay-inside day.

"Sister Act IV" now playing at LaGuardia

The first born's flights were all on time last night. He texted me from the airport saying he had arrived, his girlfriend surprised him at the gate, and they'd made some new friends while waiting for his luggage. Today, this photo appeared on Instagram:
New York City can be a scary place sometimes. Don't think that hasn't crossed my mind. I'm taking this as a sign from God that everything's going to be okay.

And away he goes....

I told him to find someone else to drive him to the airport, if possible. I hate goodbyes. Especially ones involving my kids. But, it was difficult finding someone who wasn't working at 2 in the afternoon. It came back to Mom. So, I skipped the mascara and put on my enormous sunglasses so he wouldn't see me cry. Now he's off to a brand new life in the big city - New York City, namely - with the woman of his dreams and an ocean of opportunity before him. How is it possible to be so sad and so happy at the same time?

Who's the boss?

(My dear friend, Short Jewish Gal, used to write for the TV sitcom,"Who's the Boss?" As you can tell if you read her excellent blog, she is going through some challenges of her own these days. The headline of this post is my nod to her. SJG, I'm still thinking about you.)
    Back at BoomerGirl Ranch, where BoomerBoy is home for - hold on to your hats, cowpokes! - 5-1/2 weeks... it's a new reality. Husband and wife together, 24/7. Day in - day out. IN THE WINTER! Until his follow-up appointment on Valentine's Day, ironically enough, when life will return to normal. Hopefully. It hasn't been one full day and already there are power struggles. "Let me get that for you." "I can get it." "Don't be a hero. Take another pain pill." "I'll take one if I need one." As SJG would say, "Oy!" My one advantage: Since he's not allowed to drive, he can't go anywhere without me. Some might call this a pain …

Holy hipster, he-man!

I would like to think my humble little blog provides a public service once in a while. So, let my message today be one that you tuck away in your memory bank until you or someone you love needs it: If you ever have a hip replacement, do yourself a favor and consider the anterior (front) approach. There aren't a lot of surgeons who do it, and it requires a special operating table and instruments, but the recovery time is significantly less than the lateral or posterior approaches and, if all goes well, there are no restrictions on activities after surgery. To me, this is nothing less than a miracle. That said, we've been warned that tomorrow might be a rough day, soreness-wise, but the hubs is going to walk out of here on his own power, three days after major surgery. Hip, hip, hooray!

(Mom's) Home Sweet Home

The nurses call Room 338 "the presidential suite" but, in the end, I decided to sleep in my old childhood bed last night.

The patient was doing well, having walked to the bathroom on his new hip without incident, so I opted not to sleep on "the world's least comfortable sofa bed," according to the nurse.

"Besides, he's going to need you to be fresh tomorrow," she said. Big therapy day ahead. And, did I mention snow and sub-zero temps coming? I hope there's a class in ice walking.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The waiting game

It felt a bit like vacation - getting up before dawn, packing the car and hitting the highway. That is, until we got to our destination. We arrived promptly at 5:45 and registered at Admissions.  This took all of five minutes. "The nurse will come to get you at 6:30," they said. So, we waited for 40 minutes in the hospital lobby.  By 7:15, we were chatting with the surgeon, an affable fellow with clean fingernails and perfectly coiffed hair. Good signs, we thought. At 7:20, we were informed that the very special instruments for the procedure (not kept in-house) had not been sterilized and delivered. Our 7:30 surgery would be delayed. One hour, tops. Keep in mind, the patient has a deteriorated hip. Sitting anywhere is painful, especially on a gurney. "Omigod, we were so close," we said. Uncomfortably, we waited until 8:45 when, finally, the nurse came to inject sedative into the patient's I.V.  We kissed - twice - and they wheeled him away to the O.R. Now, I w…

Wiping the slate clean

. I found this definition on the Web today....  Clean slate: An opportunity to start over without prejudice. I love that, and the do-over that comes around every 365 days. Today, it's the Rose Bowl parade, football and party leftovers  (because everyone knows the diet doesn't actually start until Jan. 2nd.) Maybe a few resolutions, here and there. Happy new year, everybody.