I'm Going to be on the Radio!
The CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Channel) offers "The Choice" each week. This is a by request replay of previously aired shows. After listening to this week's podcast, "While You Were Out" I HAD to hear the second part of the two part series. It is a documentary discussing sleep. The host interviews specialists in the field of sleep research like clinicians, but also includes a sleep historian and an anthropologist who is traveling the globe to discover the differences in how cultures have different norms in sleeping patterns.
I think the most interesting part that resonated with me on a personal level was the fact that different people have different schedules in their internal time clocks. These patterns explain why some people rise and shine early in the morning, get to work early, and go to sleep shortly after dinner while other people stay up into the wee-hours of the morning, dragging into work or school and only get really "into" their work as the first group are winding down and trotting home. They call these two types the larks (early) and the owls (late). The larks have shorter circadian rhythms than the 24 hours that we call one day and owls internal clocks mark a day at more than 24 hours. These differences in personal rhythm is partly inherited. If you are born to 2 night owls, you are likely to have a predisposition to being an owl yourself.
So, I jumped on the computer and requested the second part of the series. The Associate Producer has already sent me a script which I can personalize prior to recording my intro for their next podcast.
I'm very excited, mostly because I am seeing an almost immediate, positive response to my request. I haven't been feeling very powerful or dynamic lately. This could be the jump start that I need to start making things happen in the way I used to. A couple of years ago, before I met my loving husband, I was a go-getter. People would comment on the fact that every time we would get together, I'd have something new and different to report about projects I was working on or connections I was following to produce a result.
I want my child to grow up observing *that* side of me. I've become complacent in my happiness. I'd rather be happy AND striving than just sitting enjoying the view.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Out With the Old, In With the New
Yesterday I called Kaiser and changed my primary care OB/GYN. Though I liked this woman when I was receiving gyne care from her, I haven't been impressed with her knowledge or bedside manner during my prenatal visits.
My last visit was nearly two weeks ago. After listening to our son's heartbeat with the doppler, she turned her attention to my chart and said, "We expect people to have weight gain after the holidays. But you can't have a jump like this again." She smirked at me, assuming to know that I'd eaten too many cookies and had too much egg nog.
She did not ask me about my diet. She did not inquire about how much juice (or eggnog) I drink thought this is a source of calories that most pregnant women seem to overlook. She didn't ask if we eat out more often than cooking at home. She just assumed to know.
I was MAD. Firstly, I just lost 15 pounds from adhering to my yeast free diet (see earlier posts.) To summarize, this meant no sugar, no alcohol, no simple carbohydrates, no bread with yeast (which is almost all bread), no vinegar, no mustard, no mayonnaise, no mushrooms, no cheese. In fact, I had to limit my fruit intake - because that is also sugar. What do you eat on a diet like that? Whole grains, meat, and vegetables. What happens? You lose weight FAST.
In fact, I am hovering between 5 - 7 pounds above my pre-diet weight now, at Week 19. I would have been all-too-happy to share this fact with her if she hadn't pulled out her lance and aimed it at me. Try and find a topic more sensitive than a woman's weight. I can't believe that a trained medical professional who specializes in this work would take this approach.
Shortly after leaving her office I called my friend, Liz. She is now 8 months pregnant. Pre-pregnancy she was an avid soccer player who danced on the weekends. This woman is not fat, even at 8 months she's solid. She said that she had the same experience at the same point in pregnancy. She gained 13 pounds between Month 3 and Month 4. Then she gained 3 pounds between Month 4 and Month 5. Her OB said that THIS IS NORMAL. If her OB knows that this happens, why doesn't mine?
One more question that my OB could have asked me was, "Are you retaining water?" The answer to that by most pregnant women would be a quick, "YES." In fact, I lost 3 pounds in 2 days after that appointment. Could that be fat or muscle? No; that was water.
The odd thing is, I'm not overweight AT ALL. My friends say that I look like myself with a bigger mid-section. My legs still fit into my pants (thought I can't wear them because of the waistline.) And my face is still the same shape, not rounded. When I gain weight, it goes to my face first. My arms are thin. You can see my ribs, though I'm not gaunt. In a word, I'm healthy.
I told this story to several friends, to get their sympathy. Almost unanimously they told me to find someone else. They didn't like the idea of me putting myself into the hands of someone who was so reluctant to ask questions instead of making assumptions.
I thought back and remembered that I'd seen another OB several months ago when mine was too busy to schedule me in. I really liked that woman. She was young, sharp, and had a fantastic smile when she walked into the room. We had an immediate rapport. I found my spirits lifted by my visit with her, even though I went there with a problem.
Upon research I found that she is accepting new patients, YEAH! What I didn't know is that she is an osteopath (DO.) I like the fact that her focus is on wellness and that she knows about natural cures as well as western medical practices and prescriptions. I'm actually excited to go to my first appointment with her.
I'll check back in once that happens - if not before.
Yesterday I called Kaiser and changed my primary care OB/GYN. Though I liked this woman when I was receiving gyne care from her, I haven't been impressed with her knowledge or bedside manner during my prenatal visits.
My last visit was nearly two weeks ago. After listening to our son's heartbeat with the doppler, she turned her attention to my chart and said, "We expect people to have weight gain after the holidays. But you can't have a jump like this again." She smirked at me, assuming to know that I'd eaten too many cookies and had too much egg nog.
She did not ask me about my diet. She did not inquire about how much juice (or eggnog) I drink thought this is a source of calories that most pregnant women seem to overlook. She didn't ask if we eat out more often than cooking at home. She just assumed to know.
I was MAD. Firstly, I just lost 15 pounds from adhering to my yeast free diet (see earlier posts.) To summarize, this meant no sugar, no alcohol, no simple carbohydrates, no bread with yeast (which is almost all bread), no vinegar, no mustard, no mayonnaise, no mushrooms, no cheese. In fact, I had to limit my fruit intake - because that is also sugar. What do you eat on a diet like that? Whole grains, meat, and vegetables. What happens? You lose weight FAST.
In fact, I am hovering between 5 - 7 pounds above my pre-diet weight now, at Week 19. I would have been all-too-happy to share this fact with her if she hadn't pulled out her lance and aimed it at me. Try and find a topic more sensitive than a woman's weight. I can't believe that a trained medical professional who specializes in this work would take this approach.
Shortly after leaving her office I called my friend, Liz. She is now 8 months pregnant. Pre-pregnancy she was an avid soccer player who danced on the weekends. This woman is not fat, even at 8 months she's solid. She said that she had the same experience at the same point in pregnancy. She gained 13 pounds between Month 3 and Month 4. Then she gained 3 pounds between Month 4 and Month 5. Her OB said that THIS IS NORMAL. If her OB knows that this happens, why doesn't mine?
One more question that my OB could have asked me was, "Are you retaining water?" The answer to that by most pregnant women would be a quick, "YES." In fact, I lost 3 pounds in 2 days after that appointment. Could that be fat or muscle? No; that was water.
The odd thing is, I'm not overweight AT ALL. My friends say that I look like myself with a bigger mid-section. My legs still fit into my pants (thought I can't wear them because of the waistline.) And my face is still the same shape, not rounded. When I gain weight, it goes to my face first. My arms are thin. You can see my ribs, though I'm not gaunt. In a word, I'm healthy.
I told this story to several friends, to get their sympathy. Almost unanimously they told me to find someone else. They didn't like the idea of me putting myself into the hands of someone who was so reluctant to ask questions instead of making assumptions.
I thought back and remembered that I'd seen another OB several months ago when mine was too busy to schedule me in. I really liked that woman. She was young, sharp, and had a fantastic smile when she walked into the room. We had an immediate rapport. I found my spirits lifted by my visit with her, even though I went there with a problem.
Upon research I found that she is accepting new patients, YEAH! What I didn't know is that she is an osteopath (DO.) I like the fact that her focus is on wellness and that she knows about natural cures as well as western medical practices and prescriptions. I'm actually excited to go to my first appointment with her.
I'll check back in once that happens - if not before.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Family & Friends
Holidays 2007
It's raining here and I'm listening to Herbie Hancock's take on Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now." It's a mellow, melancholy piano instrumental with some light bass and a touch of sax. It's a perfect soundtrack to this gray, cold day.
My husband and I returned from our long road trip north on Thursday night. We drove from Berkeley, CA to Bend, OR. This was our first experience driving in snow pack and on ice. We had chains but neither of us had ever put them on before. (One of the benefits of residing in California over a lifetime.) I remembered watching the bus and van drivers laying the chains out and driving onto them as the first step of installation. My husband was reluctant to try that as the [inept] directions said nothing about such methodology. Fortunately, we found a man who I named "ice angel" who installed the chains for us. We were lucky to have found him. Though the highway was well maintained by snow plows, the off ramp and street that D made a wrong turn onto were not. There was ice and snow pack that would have prevented us from making it onto the freeway had we not be equipped with that metal traction.
We made it to Bend safely. It took us about 10 hours. You can't drive more than 35 mph with snow chains, it would have been impossible to cut down our driving time.
I think I need to make a separate entry about Bend. I tend to spew when it comes to discussions about my father. Though I have bridged the gap that saw us in radio silence for 10 years, this trip reminded me that he hasn't changed. There are so many instances of wrong-doing on his part, the pain in me runs deep and my anger is close to the surface when I think or talk about it. One of the main reasons I didn't speak to him for so long was that I considered it an act of self preservation. It was easier for me to live a peaceful existence and love myself and recognize the beauty in life when he wasn't even a peripheral part of it. I know that our trip north made both my father and my step-mom very happy. We brought the spirit of Christmas with us. We got a beautiful tree, we made Christmas Eve and Christmas dinner, we brought homemade Christmas cookies and gifts. But this will be the last time we spend the holidays with them. It was a depressing experience for both my husband and me. My father's flippant remarks and incessant demands took the joy out of the things we did. And once we'd finished decorating the tree, making dinner and cleaning up, and opening presents, we had nothing to do there. My parents went to bed most of the day and early each night and my husband and I sat around on our computers (without internet access - ugh) playing video games for lack of anything else to do. I did read as well, but I didn't want to devour my book too quickly. I'd forgotten my journal and didn't savor the prospect of having nothing to read as well as no place to document my feelings and thoughts.
We stayed in Bend, sleeping each night in an uncomfortably short bed in a room that smelled of smoke, mold, and dogs. After four nights, it was time to depart. We packed up our things (which now also smelled like smoke, mold, and dogs!) and made the drive from Bend to Portland, OR. In case you aren't familiar with Oregon's geography, this requires climbing Mt. Hood. Unfortunately for us, it started to snow in Bend just as we were finished packing the car. This translated to snow flurries on the mountain. Fortunately, by this time, we were experienced installing chains and the process went much more smoothly, even in the dark. We pulled into a gas station, the only thing for miles. The snow was piled a foot deep everywhere except under the awning. There was a truck parked out front that was almost unidentifiable for the thick white cover that obscured its shape. We went inside to use the facilities and grab some hot cocoa, and on we went. The Edgefield was the light at the end of our tunnel. When we arrived at the hotel, we were assigned to a large, corner room with a king-sized bed. We dropped our things and went for dinner. (By this time is was 8pm and we were very hungry.) We shared a tasty dinner made from sustainably farmed meats and vegetables and tucked in early for the night.
In an episode of "Hard Core History" discussing The Great Depression, the host makes the assertion that people are imbued with better spirit as a result of having experienced poverty and privation. I share his beliefs. I come from a "hard" childhood and feel stronger for it.
Though we didn't listen to this episode until the final leg of our trip home, I was appreciating the message in that big bed. Having to sleep with my legs curled (my poor husband is even taller than I) for four nights made me appreciative of that spacious bed in a way that I wouldn't have had I come from my own bed. It represented a level of comfort that we had become unaccustomed to and I relished that night's sleep that much more for not having woken up hitting my feet or my head on foot or head board even once in the night.
The ride from Portland to Seattle was beautiful and easy. The landscape is punctuated with gnarly trees crowned with bird's nests, rolling green hills, and cows and horses grazing. It's a very different scene than you see in California, which is mostly golden in the open areas that remain.
I'm sorry to blog a partial entry, but my pregnant belly demands food NOW. Since I don't blog with frequency, I'm concerned that if I don't publish this now, that I may not pick it back up and that this time will have been wasted. So, there you go - Episode 1.
Happy New Year!
M
Holidays 2007
It's raining here and I'm listening to Herbie Hancock's take on Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now." It's a mellow, melancholy piano instrumental with some light bass and a touch of sax. It's a perfect soundtrack to this gray, cold day.
My husband and I returned from our long road trip north on Thursday night. We drove from Berkeley, CA to Bend, OR. This was our first experience driving in snow pack and on ice. We had chains but neither of us had ever put them on before. (One of the benefits of residing in California over a lifetime.) I remembered watching the bus and van drivers laying the chains out and driving onto them as the first step of installation. My husband was reluctant to try that as the [inept] directions said nothing about such methodology. Fortunately, we found a man who I named "ice angel" who installed the chains for us. We were lucky to have found him. Though the highway was well maintained by snow plows, the off ramp and street that D made a wrong turn onto were not. There was ice and snow pack that would have prevented us from making it onto the freeway had we not be equipped with that metal traction.
We made it to Bend safely. It took us about 10 hours. You can't drive more than 35 mph with snow chains, it would have been impossible to cut down our driving time.
I think I need to make a separate entry about Bend. I tend to spew when it comes to discussions about my father. Though I have bridged the gap that saw us in radio silence for 10 years, this trip reminded me that he hasn't changed. There are so many instances of wrong-doing on his part, the pain in me runs deep and my anger is close to the surface when I think or talk about it. One of the main reasons I didn't speak to him for so long was that I considered it an act of self preservation. It was easier for me to live a peaceful existence and love myself and recognize the beauty in life when he wasn't even a peripheral part of it. I know that our trip north made both my father and my step-mom very happy. We brought the spirit of Christmas with us. We got a beautiful tree, we made Christmas Eve and Christmas dinner, we brought homemade Christmas cookies and gifts. But this will be the last time we spend the holidays with them. It was a depressing experience for both my husband and me. My father's flippant remarks and incessant demands took the joy out of the things we did. And once we'd finished decorating the tree, making dinner and cleaning up, and opening presents, we had nothing to do there. My parents went to bed most of the day and early each night and my husband and I sat around on our computers (without internet access - ugh) playing video games for lack of anything else to do. I did read as well, but I didn't want to devour my book too quickly. I'd forgotten my journal and didn't savor the prospect of having nothing to read as well as no place to document my feelings and thoughts.
We stayed in Bend, sleeping each night in an uncomfortably short bed in a room that smelled of smoke, mold, and dogs. After four nights, it was time to depart. We packed up our things (which now also smelled like smoke, mold, and dogs!) and made the drive from Bend to Portland, OR. In case you aren't familiar with Oregon's geography, this requires climbing Mt. Hood. Unfortunately for us, it started to snow in Bend just as we were finished packing the car. This translated to snow flurries on the mountain. Fortunately, by this time, we were experienced installing chains and the process went much more smoothly, even in the dark. We pulled into a gas station, the only thing for miles. The snow was piled a foot deep everywhere except under the awning. There was a truck parked out front that was almost unidentifiable for the thick white cover that obscured its shape. We went inside to use the facilities and grab some hot cocoa, and on we went. The Edgefield was the light at the end of our tunnel. When we arrived at the hotel, we were assigned to a large, corner room with a king-sized bed. We dropped our things and went for dinner. (By this time is was 8pm and we were very hungry.) We shared a tasty dinner made from sustainably farmed meats and vegetables and tucked in early for the night.
In an episode of "Hard Core History" discussing The Great Depression, the host makes the assertion that people are imbued with better spirit as a result of having experienced poverty and privation. I share his beliefs. I come from a "hard" childhood and feel stronger for it.
Though we didn't listen to this episode until the final leg of our trip home, I was appreciating the message in that big bed. Having to sleep with my legs curled (my poor husband is even taller than I) for four nights made me appreciative of that spacious bed in a way that I wouldn't have had I come from my own bed. It represented a level of comfort that we had become unaccustomed to and I relished that night's sleep that much more for not having woken up hitting my feet or my head on foot or head board even once in the night.
The ride from Portland to Seattle was beautiful and easy. The landscape is punctuated with gnarly trees crowned with bird's nests, rolling green hills, and cows and horses grazing. It's a very different scene than you see in California, which is mostly golden in the open areas that remain.
I'm sorry to blog a partial entry, but my pregnant belly demands food NOW. Since I don't blog with frequency, I'm concerned that if I don't publish this now, that I may not pick it back up and that this time will have been wasted. So, there you go - Episode 1.
Happy New Year!
M
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