A Very Scary Halloween

I love Halloween.  This year, I was a little over it.  Barely put up decorations, only made one batch of Witchy Finger cookies, tried to convince the girl she is too old to Trick-or-Treat.  Really, she does not need to know how old I was when I stopped, or that having her was really part of my secret plan to continue the tradition well into my 40's.  I really wanted to dive this weekend.  We were supposed to join a huge group of perfect strangers diving all weekend, camping and drinking beer - it sounded like heaven to me, and the girl had agreed willingly. 

Alas - she is a teen ager. How could I possibly deprive my daughter of going to her first real Halloween party?  The biggest party of the year?  Yeah, yeah - I'm the mommy, but if we are diving as a fun bonding exercise, and I force her to go when she really wants to do something else - how fun will that be for anyone?  And did I forget how painfully shy I am around strangers? and what a huge social leap I was making by going to this thing in the first place? So the compromise was that she would go to her party, and not complain when I booted her out of bed at 6:00am to do a gulf dive.  Except the dive was cancelled by for rough seas.

Crap! now what?  I really need to dive more - I feel like I am losing basic skills - I feel like I am wasting the big mountain of money in the shed that looks a little like dive equipment.

One of the people we were planning on diving with is also fairly new, although she has 40 something dives in, after only 3 months of certification, and she thought it would be fun to go to one of the springs.  Cool - weather is not a factor, we can do that.

 Dun, dun, Duuuhhhhhn.  Devil's Den - (cue music of impending doom).

Is beautiful - but about 2 1/2 hours away, and we got a late start.  So all geared up - walked down the creepy cavern like stone steps, then onto the creaky, narrow, one person at a time wood steps onto the wet and slightly slimy platform.  We are inside a huge dome, with a hole at the top that lets in ambient light and moss - beautiful.  Tracy does a giant stride into the water (that's a technical term for jumping off a dock with a big step into the water).  The girl starts - but I stop her, and have her check to make sure her air valve is on - it, is of course, I didn't raise an idiot.  So it is my turn - I check my air.  Crap, I do NOT have my air on.  And I cannot reach.  And everyone else is in the water.  But I am resourceful, and flexible, and strong.  So I lay on my back on the slimy little deck, on top of the tank, head an shoulders out over the edge so Tracy can turn the valve on (thanks Tracy).  And I go to sit up.

The tank is longer than my back - and I look a lot like a dying bug.  No worries - I will roll to my side and push up - I teach patients to do this all the time - so I roll.  I am way too close to the steps, I have rolled facing the steps, and now I am stuck between the steps and the tank, and cannot go either way.  At this point I hear my lovely, helpful, sniggering buddies:
"Are you taking pictures?"

"Ohhh - Yeah!"
Thanks, guys - you're the Best!

I only post this picture so you can see how pretty the cavern is, and how cruel it was for them to leave me there.  I finally pushed around and rolled into the water - quite gracefully I may add.

 The next pic is of a sign posted in front of one of the many cave entrances - just so you can see what kind of immanent danger I was actually in. 

 The dive was fun, by the time we had burned through the first tank, we had seen it all about 4 times.  I would have liked to go back in, just to work on skills (oh, yes - I need a lot of that), but the kid was tired and hungry, and started yapping about carving pumpkins.  I was hoping she would forget that tradition, too.  The thing about traditions, they happen every year, and people come to expect them - soooo.  She actually texted the darling husband from the dive site and requested he go pick up pumpkins.  Which, of course, he did.

All in all - it was a good diving day.  We got wet, no one died.  I made at least one personal discovery - I have ZERO interest in cave or cavern diving.  I like to be able to see.  I like pretty fishes and lots of color. On the very bottom of the dive log, there is a question about what you would like to do different on the next dive.  Ummmm, I'm thinking I'll try turning on my air?  maybe before my buddy gets in the water.  sounds like a pretty good plan.  Or maybe I'll take the buddy's camera away until I am all comfy in the water.

These are the pumpkins we carved when we got home.  The Girl even talked me into roasting seeds - she was seven before someone introduced her to that one, I haven't gotten out of it since.

The best thing about the day was that Pebbles had been feeling pretty good all day, and even managed to come outside and sit under the picnic table while we carved.  Good day.

The girl had two friends come home from gym with her to Trick-or-Treat Monday night - they made a haul!. She went as a nerd fairy. I did not realize until we were out on the street that she was wearing her "BASTNERD" shirt.  She got some mixed reactions, at least from the people that actually got it.  Curse that quirky sense of humor whe inherited from
ummm
well - wherever she got it.

Sad Week

This has been a rough week.  Thumper - the 1/2 rabbit in our "2 dog, 1 cat, 1bird, 1 lizard, 1 1/2 rabbit" home - died this week.  The Darling girl had found her in a park, somehow managed to catch her and bring her home.  the answer was of course "NO!" Then the neighbors stepped in.  Their daughter would take care of it - it would just live in the cage with our rabbit (Kandy Kane).  Being the farm girl that I am, I was able to determine that we did, indeed, have two female rabbits, so I relented. After a week of quarantine, Thumper was introduced to Kandy Kane, and they became bosom buddies.  And the girls did well, splitting the time for feeding and watering, covering for each other when one forgot, etc. Everyone was content.

Then the bunnies got loose.

It happens, sometime it take a day or two to catch Kandy, but she is very sweet and loves us, and is only a little skittish. Thumper?  mass herding efforts with the neighborhood, help from guest, alerts from random strangers.  all to no avail.  Wily little thing.  We would converge upon her, obviously trapped in a corner between the house and a fence, no chance of failure.  But she could sense the weakest link, and bolt directly toward the person most likely to freak out rather than grab her.

All of that was two years ago.  She has been living under our house ever since.  Once she became comfortable with the fact that we were not going to catch her, she grew quite friendly, even letting us pet her when we brought her food and water.  The best thing was the odd, progressive relationship she had with the cat.  At first, Ashe was curious, and maybe a little annoyed.  Then we would find the two engaged in parallel play like toddlers, playing their own version of the same game, watching each other stealthily.  They would take naps in the yard, 3-4 feet away from one another, contentedly sleeping under the same tree.  I came home one day to find Ashe under a neighbor's bench, crouched low, tail twitching.  My heart sank when I realized the object of prey was Thumper.  Ashe ran out, jumped on Thumper's back, they both jumped in the air, and ran off in different directions.  Thumper double backed and chased Ashe under the bench.  Ashe resumed "stalking" pose.  Thumper went back to casually ignoring him.  Apparently this game was repeated over and over until one or both got tired.

Last weekend the Darling Man came in to tell me something was wrong with Thumper, she made no attempts to get away when she was approached.  I picked her up and she sort of sunk into my hands.  She had a small puncture wound (Cat? Raccoon?) at the base of her ear.  Hot, swollen, painful.  Ear drooping, eye closed, unable to really hold her head up.  Obviously infected.  Rabbit skulls are thin and fragile, it is possible that the wound pierced the skull, and the brain was also infected.  She seemed to really appreciate the warm compress, lying her head in my hand, and searching for it when I pulled away.  We did get some water down her, and I think she was resting comfortably.  She did not make it through the night.

The upside of all of this is that no one expected her to last a week outside on her own.  She loved being outdoors, and found a happy, reasonably safe place to live.  How many other rabbits live in a cat protected yard?  My best guess is that she got out of Ashe's circle of influence and was attacked by another cat.  Ashe would not actively defend the rabbit, but he does not allow other cats in his yard.

The other horrible sad thing in our house is Pebbles.  She has been having a very hard time getting up and down, has not walked with us in over a week.  We really thought she had thrown her back out or it was arthritis, but she did not seem to really be in pain, was eating very well, and was happy.  Her vet was on vacation for a week, and we kept thinking "oh, she's a getting little better."  But she's not.  She has a large mass in her abdomen.  We now have to look into the crystal ball and decide if surgery will fix her and give her a few more years of comfy, happy dog life (a 50% chance) or if we are willing to let them open her up, and put her down if the cancer is inoperable or spreading.  I don't think I could bear the thought of her dying in an operating room without us.  Looking at the x-ray, I think the vet was being optimistic at 50% chance.  Have not heard back from the surgeon yet.  In the mean time, she can still get up to go potty (with a lot of encouragement), is eating like a horse (because she is feeding a massive tumor) and seems very content to have all of us lie next to her and pet her like she does for us when we don't feel well.

So, we wait.  Hopefully we will get a consult with the surgeon next week, and she will not decline in the mean time.

Good Mom/Bad Mom

They say hindsight is 20/20.  In order to clearly see your past, you have to actively look at it.  Deconstruction of your past actions can be a process of true growth, or it can be the worst form of self-indulgent narcissism.  I'm constantly looking back.  "Damn, I could have done that better." or "That is something I'll be fixing in the future." or, "Crap, who's in charge of damage control?"  Sometimes I give myself premature (or timely), undeserved (or honestly earned), pats on the back.  Right now I am swinging on my back porch, beer in hand watching the fire reduce itself to embers - all because the Girl child and company want to roast hot dogs and make s'mores.  I am at a good spot in life when drinking beer alone in front of a fire makes me feel like a Good Mom.

I had a couple of "bad Mommy" moments earlier this week.  The Darling Girl has inherited the unfortunate habit of self-analysis, I'm not always the best sounding board.  Sometimes she is looking for an honest opinion about action or behaviour, and sometimes she wants to know that she is loved unconditionally, that she should never change.  She is a teen ager.  Sometimes I forget that.  Even when I remember, it does not mean I will understand the things any better. Conversations are not the equal give and take of active minds that they once were.  They are not the sharing of advice to enrich her future.  They are freakin' psychological mine fields, and I do not have a map.  I usually know that I went the wrong way when she clams up and gets a little teary.  She invented "I'm fine."  My go to attitude is more: "what-ev-er."  These are not compatible phrase patterns. There are often hurt feelings and shocked confusion hanging about the room, left over after the most seemingly mundane conversations.

I try to remember how my parents coped.  Then I remember.  They drank. A lot.  I'm pretty sure that is not an option for me.  This beer is pretty darn good, though - it is something to ponder.  

New Horizons

When we were children, clouds became animals.
Now that we are adults, the vast, blue sky is a metaphor for the infinite, upward potential of the human spirit.
    - Laura Teresa Marquez

I often say that I am a mediocre (at best) home health therapist.  
This is true.  I love my work, enjoy my patients, I put every bit of education, compassion and caring that I have at my disposal into each treatment.  I feel that this is the kind of care that should always be demanded of your professionals - it is not a standard of care, it is minimal care. I have zero desire to elevate my knowledge base - this is what sets apart the average, run of the mill therapist that has a good job, and a passionate professional, a "top-tier" therapist.    

And then I run off and spend 9 days away from my family learning an in depth specialized area of care that allows me to help a whole underserved population of people, increases my level of expertise, and my knowledge base, and makes me a more marketable professional.
Damn! I was so content going through each day spinning my wheels, acting like a new-grad.  But I love this - and I feel like it will be hugely valuable to my patients, enhance the efficiency of our wound care (like an assist for the nurses), and it is a hands-on type of care that does not kill my old arthritic hands. So now it is rushing around trying to set up a program.  I am inservicing the nurses, trying to figure out suppliers, setting appointments to work with marketing people to let the Docs know we have a program, networking with people all over, and realizing that I may have found a home in home-health.  I may actually get good at this.  I may still be a mediocre home-health therapist, but I plan to be a kick-ass Certified Lymphedema Therapist.

And yeah - I am very tired!  going to be a long week.    

Learning/Wishing

 We did our first Gulf Dive Yesterday.  Wow. Not as scary as I thought.  Actually calm, relaxing, beautiful.  Even with low visibility and spending the first dive wasting all of my air bouncing up and down like a yo-yo.  The second time in, we fixed my weighting, used the air diving, had better visibility, cooler structures, and a bonded with a little blue and yellow fish that reminded me of BB (the parakeet) and was perfectly willing to go home with me if I had asked.

I love that we are doing this, and am especially happy that the darling girl gets to have really cool experiences growing up.  I do spoil my child. If it is in my power to let her do or try anything, as long as she learns and follows safety precautions, is willing to put the time in to do something safely and conscientiously, I will try to make it happen.  Not a big fan of buying her things.  Every electronic gadget she owns (which is a bunch) she either bought herself or was a gift from not-the-mommy.

Someone asked me the other day what I wished for my daughter.  The knee-jerk reaction was what my Mom always said: "I wish that she grows up happy."  But I really don't.  Wishing is something you do when there is an element of chance in the outcome.  The smaller the odds the more fervent the wish.  I wish that she has a great job, that she enjoys and pays her a comfortable income (small wish - she has the skills, internal drive and practical nature that makes this nearly a given).  I wish that I get at least one grand-child out of the deal (bigger wish - who knows what path she'll take, she likes kids, but has such big dreams and ambitions, and just because maternal bliss is my path doesn't make it hers). I want a million things for my daughter, but mostly I want her to make decisions that will build her character and keep her always engaged in her life.

Happiness?  This is the one thing in our world that we have complete control over.  I can't wish happiness for her, because nothing in the world: money, relationships, career, experience, family, candy, toys, world peace, global domination, NOTHING can make you happy.  Happy is a choice.  I fervently wish that my daughter understands this and makes this choice, but I have no control over this.  The universe at large, whom I generally expect to deliver my wishes, has no jurisdiction over this.  Only the Darling Daughter can make herself happy.  All I can do is try to show her what happy looks like.  And I am happy, very, very happy. :-)    

OW

As in Open Water.  As in Open Water Diver.  Which on one level, may qualify as an ow!  Very excited.  fairly nervous.  a little scared. Now we have to actually do it.  Our first dive is lined up for next weekend, in the gulf, off a boat, in 50-60 ft of water.  We are going on the dive charter run by the shop that we took lessons with, so there is the comfort level of familiarity - sort of - the boat is being run by the Clearwater store, and we really only know the Tampa people.  The captain seems ultra friendly and "newbie sensitive."

It's all good, and it will be fun.  If my ears don't completely freak out on me, and Riki's sinus' don't stop her at 15 ft.

The child is absolutely determined to muscle ahead with her fund raiser.  She does not have sponsorships or participants lined up, and the cost of event insurance is around $600.  She has faith that it will all come together.  I have faith that regardless of the outcome, she will have learned some pretty important lessons.

I leave on October 1st for a week long intensive training in Completed Decongestion Therapy/Lymphatic Drainage.  Exciting.  The Darling Husband and Darling Daughter will have to figure out school, gym, breakfast lunches and transport without me.  And the last day I am gone - they have to run a Wild Child Pics booth at a local market.  The first one of the year.  And I'm not even available for moral support. Phone off from 8:00am-8:00pm except for potty breaks for 9 days.  I'm looking forward to it.  The family is pretty self sufficient.  They make me feel needed, but I think they do that because they love me, not because they can't handle it without me.

2012 Wild Child Pics Calendars are almost here.  We picked up the proofs, made a few changes, hopefully will pick them up next week.  We take credit cards now - but I'm not quite getting it - it makes people nervous when you swipe their card 5 times for a $12 purchase.  So far I have not actually overcharged anyone.  The people I have sold to have been quite patient.

On a completely different note, my boss resigned.  It was not unexpected, we lost our General Manger a few weeks ago, and I have been surprised everyday that our DCS (Director of Clinical Services) was still there.  It is sad, though. This man was the 8th DCS I have worked for at this company in 3 1/2 years, and the first one that I liked instantly. He may very well be one of the best bosses I have ever had - straightforward, caring, firm, clear headed; never petty, personal, or caught up in the crazy.  I like our acting Director, and we had a conversation yesterday about some changes she would like to see happen - all of them sound good, but none of them are new ideas - we'll see if she can pull it off.

Groundless Rant

The one thing I love about blogging is the total freedom to rant on and on about things that I have little to no point of reference on.  I can make whatever point I want based purely on conjecture, with no interruptions by annoying little facts, or research, or the opinions of others.

And be completely aware that most opinions are based on emotion, and experience, not fact.  And, our experience seem to be factual to us, when they are often misinterpretations of events, based on previously misinterpreted events. It is a vicious cycle.  On to the Rant:

WHY are environmental issues divided along party lines?  What about conservation could possibly be anti-Republican?  How is preserving your resources not a conservative value?  I grew up in a staunchly republican home.  "Waste not, Want not," was a rule, almost written in blood, except that writing in blood would be wasteful.  Living on a farm in the middle of nowhere requires a certain amount of conservation, organic farming, crop rotation, allowing fields to rest, etc. Made fiscal and long term use sense.  It wasn't cool, it just was.  We have known for my entire life that there isn't a bunch of available oil, that coal resources, and oil reserves will run out.  We also know how damaging drilling can be to the environment - not just from a natural beauty sense, but from a ruining our potential food source perspective.  We sink billions of dollars into the industry, sometimes completely wasted trying to get more of this stuff out of the ground.  We give a lot of lip-service to the possibility of alternative sources, always followed with, "these are great but you can't run an airplane or locomotive on it."   Why the hell not?

I am not an expert, and I do not have a multibillion dollar oil company backing me up, but if the same money was available to research and develop renewable sources, we would have them.  Money talks, and the power minds of our great nations could probably have us completely running on pig-farts in 10 years if the money was there.  Hell - my phone could probably handle all the data NASA needed for our first moon-walk. - Why? because somebody figured out early on that the money was in computers.

So back to my rant.  The democrats (love them - they are sort of my adopted family) have zero muscle on this sort of thing, especially when dealing with big oil.  The republicans - the party that I grew up in, that confounds me on every turn, pretty much has their head up the proverbial arse on this. So that sort of leaves us.  We get what we demand, right? Except the laws of supply and demand don't really apply here.  We need to get from point "A" to point "B" and if fossil fuels are what get us there, that's what we use.
and oh - yeah, there is our plastics addiction.  Remember glass drawers in refrigerators? Glass thermos bottles? bulk foods in grocery stores? paper wrapped sandwhiches?  I'm really not that old, and I remember this stuff.

Something has to be done, but first we have to acknowledge that it is an issue, and not a party issue.  I miss Charlie Crist! 

The Mermaid Within

He who would search for pearls must dive below.
John Dryden

 This is turning into the misadventures of Molly Mud - or some equally horrific account of my ridiculous attempts at - well, whatever.  Currently it is all about diving. 

I did not drown the beautiful girl in the "buddy breathing and ascent" drill today.  This is an improvement over the last attempt, and since this time we were in real water, about 20 feet down, it is definitely a bonus.  However, I brought her up so fast that if we had been deeper or down longer, we probably would have gotten bent.  She, of course saved me in the classic textbook way.  She started her descent at least once without putting her regulator (breathing doo hickey) into her mouth - oops, snorkels do not work underwater, which I proved when I tried to use my snorkel after giving her my regulator in the buddy breathing thing.  Seriously, if I am the responsible party, one of us will drown. (not really, Mom, we are getting it)

I did not cramp up.  Yay! I managed to control most of the painful parts of pressure equalization, but am still very stuffy and can barely hear out of one ear.  

The biggest problem I have is control of my body in the water.  I have always prided myself on my good balance.  Even flabby and out of shape, I have great core strength and excellent balance.  Except for some reason I have no control over my body in the water.  Everyone else comes down straight, feet toward the bottom, head toward the surface.  And they come up the same way.  Not me.  Sideways, sitting, twisted, flopping every which direction. I look like those movies of astronauts floating in space, except that I am more flailing than floating.  A fish out of water looks positively graceful compared to me.

Some really cool stuff.  We were diving at Weeki Wachee, and one of the Mermaids was training, right off the same platform we were learning on.  I got to swim with a mermaid!  Sort of - she was rather busy, and so were we.  Random question - do mermaids pee in their tails? the water is very chilly, just sayin.'                 There was a very pretty little fish that was quite fascinated by our instructor. Not annoying like a mosquito, but you could totally start slapping at it after awhile.  Best part?  Watching the girl child play with the bubbles.  She was trying to juggle them. I managed to catch one, and let it go, but she was passing them from hand to hand.  It made me laugh - which always loosens the seal on my mask and makes me practice clearing - you know, so I don't drown.  Guilty secret? Burping into your regulator is hilarious.

We still have our tanks - I'd like to borrow some pool time before we have to bring them back tomorrow.  Next adventure is on the 11th.  Then we will be official.  Go us! 

Under The Sea

We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot.
                           - Eleanor Roosevelt 
About 5 years ago I was visiting a friend in the keys when the girl child decided she wanted to go snorkeling. ACKKKKK I had been snorkeling, when I was very young, out at Looe Key, it was beautiful, and amazing, and I went into full panic mode everytime I got water in the snorkel. I'm sure my newly minted husband was already having second thoughts.  Flash forward to the beautiful blue-eyed blonde, pleading with me, and telling me how easy it is - she does it with her Dad all the time.

I am not a momma that likes to deny my child new experiences, and I certainly don't want her to grow up tainted by my fears, so, I agreed.  The darling man got me a cool "dry snorkel" we found a pretty little glass-flat, bath temperature, waist deep inlet and waded in. The girl says "see mommy?" stuck her face in the water and took off.  Me? Gingerly put my face in (bent at the waist) and, yes, the snorkel did its job.  With great trepidation I picked up my feet and started flailing like a mad women. At this point the Darling Husband convinced me to relax and quit stirring up the water. And guess what?  I float! 15 years and 40 pounds after the previous attempt, my body composition is perfect for water sports.  And it was on! a couple of snorkel trips to the keys a year, mask in the water at local beach days - go me.  

I have to mention that I am probably world's laziest snorkeler.  I often lay on a boogie board with my mask in the water while Fish Child pulls me around. And I don't get my face wet, or go under the water. So - time for the next step.  SCUBA.  It is a logical step.  Photo girl is old enough, wants to beef up her underwater skills, loves the water.  We live in Florida, for goodness sake! Plus, instead of whining because I miss my mountains, you would think after 20 some odd years I'd take a look see at the natural beauty offered by my immediate surroundings.  The problem is that "beautiful Florida" is mostly underwater.

I am NOT afraid of the water. I just go into full freaky panic mode when my face gets wet.  Logic, reasoning, knowledge that I am safe, all go AWOL the second water gets in my mask.  I am blind, and I cannot breathe.  Really.  I don't get my face wet in the shower.  I kind of thought SCUBA would be a cinch - I was significantly more worried about financial hurdles than mental ones. Besides, I'm not about to let my 14-year old 50ft under the surface without me. I bought all the gear, hoping my fear of wasting money is stronger than my fear of water.

No one told me that we would practice clearing the mask UNDER water.  Or that I would have to tread water for 10 minutes (I never learned how - useless skill for someone that does not get wet). The first day in the pool  was AWFUL,  H-E- double hockey sticks, AWFUL.  Every time I opened my mouth to put the regulator back in, my mask fills with water.  Instant panic.  Yes - I have air, Yes - I can breathe.  But there is water in my nose and I can't see - I am blind I tell you, BLIND. I would be very hard to rescue - they will have to knock me out so I don't drown everyone.

Jeff - amazing instructor guy at Mac Sport is very patient and very firm.  The second day was all about "you are OK, you can do this.  Do it again.   and Again.  Do it one more time.  OK, do it again," etc, etc. And did it, I did.  Yay me! 

Then it was fun! My nutball daughter even convinced me to do head stands with her at the bottom of the pool - and forgave me for letting her drown in buddy breathing scenarios when my legs cramped up just when we reached the surface. She saved me, of course.  She's the calm one.

The girl child is amazing - and very proud of her mommy.  We waited until she was older, because I knew that I could not be depended on to be calm in an underwater scenario, and she definitely is stepping up.  We still have a pool class, and a couple of open water dives.  My next challenge is properly clearing the ears, and learning how to maintain neutral buoyancy - We had tons of fun on the bottom of the pool, but I still can't hear 2 days later, and that big pile of money on the floor is not going to go away just because I go deaf when I dive.

Mediocracy

I have noticed a trend toward the mediocre. This is not new, but lately it is really starting to annoy me.  Maybe because it seems that the bar has been lowered, and what I consider to be sub-standard, not even passable, is viewed by the world at large as mediocre.

I consider myself to be a mediocre Home Health Physical Therapist.  I know what it is like to be REALLY good at something.  I understand the passion and drive for continual improvement, the attitude that if I don't have an answer, I will find it - because I want to know everything I can about a subject.  I understand the desire to be the BEST, or at least the BEST I CAN BE.  I don't have that with home health. Frankly - I show up at my patient's house, assess where they are at that given moment, what we need to do to steer them toward one or more of the goals we laid out in the eval, work with them: educating, pushing, cheering them towards that goal, document the day's work, and walk out.  The skills I use are the ones I learned in PT school.  Not the hours of continuing ed and research I have worked at in the past 17 years.  When I take continuing ed now, it is how to document, or how to keep up with Medicare guidelines, not anything to do with improving my skills as a therapist.  Sadly - this is interpreted by patients, employers and peers as "good" physical therapy.  And it is not "bad," I am way too ethical to spend my time and Medicare money not providing reasonable and necessary care.  I just know, for me, this is as lazy as I get. My job requires a strong back and a license.  Any physical therapist can do what I do, but apparently many do not.  It appears that if you are friendly, the patients will like you, if you get them to move at all, they will improve, or at least not decline, and patients (and families) do not have a point of reference for interpreting whether the care they get is quality or not.

It is not just PT, or medicine, for that matter.  Everywhere I look, I see people going through the motions of their day, without really putting any thought into what they are doing, or if it is producing the desired effect - sometimes I wonder if people remember what their goals are with each activity.  But as patients, or consumers in any industry, we remember the goals.  We have a vested interest in the outcomes, much more than the professionals providing the service. So how to make sure that the care we receive is quality? That the goals being addressed are specific to our needs? That the care is really focused on the goal?

ASK QUESTIONS !

The provider may get a little annoyed - he/she will probably feel like they are being personally questioned, which they are.  But if they thinking about the process, and answer will be available, and if they are not thinking about the process, you may jump start a dormant part of their brain that will improve the quality of service.  As a caretaker, hang out during the session, observe (don't interfere) and prepare specific questions and observations for discussing with the provider after each session.  Is the therapist doing the same exercises over and over each session?  Are they the same exercises your mom does as a home program?  If you can do them with her, or if she can do them on her own - do we need to use valuable treatment time doing them again?

This principal of observation and discussion can be applied in almost any scenario, PT is just the one I know.

So there is my rant - demand Mediocrity - it will be such an improvement over the norm.

Way Back

I refuse to start each blog entry with an apology about not writing often. Except that I am sort of apologizing. It has been so long that BlogSpot changed the format to the point that I cannot figure out how to make the font bigger. So I am writing words that I can barely see. And NOT whining about getting old. NOT.

Currently, summer has invaded the household. I was so anticipating this. Visions of lazy summer days with the fam. Going to work without the usual mad craziness of getting the girl out the door to school, yelling about chores and remembering lunches and gym stuff. Summer is historically slow at work, so I thought I could swing by the house and take her to practice, pick her back up, hang out supervising the teenish activities. Relax. Maybe have some FUN?

Instead, I am actively working with patients from 5 of my 7 jobs, because everyone is on vacation. Trying to muscle through the Lymphedema course work, getting the girl and I through 4 chapters of the dive manual before we go on vacation, as we have had to bump our first class up a month. Dealing with the fact that my mainstay job has let me know (gently) that if my handwriting does not become more legible, they will no longer be able to use me. So now I am applying to home health companies that use electronic documentation, because I can only write legibly if I keep my caseload down to 3 patients a day.

I did start working out, on a nearly daily basis. That is a good thing. And, I am making progress toward my New Year's Resolution, which is simply "to drink more wine."

The girl leaves for Oregon next week, and I follow her the week after. She has a 5 day gym camp at OSU (go Beavs!). I may actually get to spend a little relaxy time - out doors. YAY! The Hubby is off to his guitar camp at the end of July. One of the classes he is taking is on song-writing, and he has been working on it a little on his own. I'm liking some of his stuff. He sings funny folk songs, and now he is starting to write them - a new chapter in his creative life - very cool.

Balancing Act

I have not written in a long time. The Wild Child is busy, full time gym girl mode, full time student mode, part time photo girl mode. Lots going on.


Then there is the ever present, slight feeling of impending doom as weird chaos infests the country, dismantling the framework of the democracy I know and love. The economy is in the crapper. Badly needed social programs are disappearing, basic rights of assembly and collective bargaining are being villanized and disbanded. Teachers, police and firefighters - the heroes of our society, are laid off, stripped of pensions, slapped down. Corporations are posting record breaking profits while unemployment continues to grow and tax breaks are aimed at the wealthy. Environmental politics are a disaster, The world is amok, and we are no longer the sterling bastion of democratic morality and righteousness our world once new.

I have a solution. At least to the economic part of the equation. It is one of those, "greater good," Utilitarian concepts. I realize that no one is going to go for this, regardless of your political affiliation.

This came out of conversation with my infinitely wise teen-age daughter. She suggested that we should adopt the Chinese philosophy of "1 child." A good idea, which I quickly pointed out would be against the concepts of freedom of action our great country was founded on. You can't go around dictating how many kids a family wants, even if that family can't afford to pay for the upkeep. Hell - the way it is heading, we can't use government funds to educate people about pregnancy prevention (or !horrors! termination), even if the burden of that child will be placed on the government. Population control, as a means for environmental responsibility, fiscal responsibility, social responsibility, well, that's a little like asking people to take personal responsibility for their actions.


My solution? a clause in taxation that would add huge amounts of money immediately into the federal budget, level the playing field for all citizens (OK, not level, but take some of the responsibility of an individual's choice off the back of the government).


Eliminate the deductions and tax credits for kids.


OMG - she did NOT just say that. To be fair, I milk my little tax break for everything I can, this was a huge negotiating point during the support settlement with her dad. She has bailed me out of deep financial holes more than once. Families depend on those deductions and credits. But why? Why do we give a deduction for something that increases cost to the government? More people means a larger need for police, fire fighters, teachers. The bigger the population, the larger the strain on all programs. Families may consider not having a kid, if each child was viewed as an expense; not a deduction. The next logical step would be to actually tax families more for having kids, but I'm already outside the realm of realistic.


I am all for a flat tax, fair to everybody, no deductions. How much did you make? give x% to the government. Don't really care how much you spent on interest for your 3 million dollar home, or how big of a "loss" your business took. When I had a business, I paid myself a salary, and taxes were taken out regularly, just like all of my employees. My business only once showed an actual profit. I was able, routinely, to deduct enough of the business expenses to get more than 50% of the taxes I paid back. Of course, I was delighted, but really? It makes me wonder how much people with BIG businesses are NOT paying, and how much of those costs are getting thrown back to the working Joe. If the money was just taken out of your paycheck, and that was the end of it, no squirreling around at the end trying to get some back, or "oops - I shouldn't have claimed all of those kids, now I have to pay more," just a straight - if it comes home, then the government gets some, and everyone pays the same percent, wouldn't that be nice?


I would be OK with maintaining the tiered tax brackets, the "make more, pay more" concept. (How Socialist of me) But frankly, minimum wage jobs cannot keep a family afloat, and I really wouldn't mind paying a couple of percentage points more in taxes than people hovering at or below the poverty line.


If they let me run the government, everyone would hate me, even the ones on my own team, because nothing that will work is going to make anyone happy. Compromise is hard and "win/win" is sometimes not feasible. Maybe we could be happy with "lose less."