Why be Normal?

 I was driving around looking at fall foliage the other day and came upon this street sign.  For the first time in over a month or so, this made me think of blogging and I had to snap a picture of Trouble Street.

I love the fall and the foliage here in Massachusetts is just breathtaking.  I take pictures of the fall foliage, but it is very difficult to capture the true beauty of New England in the fall with a camera. 

In pictures, you can’t smell the fall in the air.  The smell that says it is no longer summer, that leaves are changing colors and the snow is soon to fall.  You can’t hear the crinkle of the leaves as you walk through a pile or the sound of people endlessly raking their yards in a fight against nature.

What does this have to do with Trouble Street?

Since I have been spending so much time outside enjoying the fall I have let my blog sit neglected, waiting for a random post, anything to keep the love alive.  Here I am blog, it might only be a brief visit, but I worked hard over the past year to build you into the pile of muckety muck that you are and I haven’t forgotten you.

What I found funny and the posts I began with aren’t as interesting to me anymore.  I think I am changing as a blogger, and although my google page rank will take yet another hit for being a clustered mess of unrelated material, I will slog on and focus on better writing.

It’s fall.  The time to batten down the hatches, grab a few breaths of fresh air and hunker down for some serious hibernation. 

  We all start out innocent.  No need to make sure we do everything perfect for fear of possible litigation.   What has happened to us as a society that we are so afraid of liability that we forget compassion and understanding?

No, I’m not saying everyone, everywhere lacks compassion.  There are many of us out there who are not afraid to reach out to others without a thought to covering our potentially liable behinds, but I have a bad taste in my mouth from a recent incident and I can’t help but voice my opinion as many of us bloggers are inclined to do.

This isn’t about me, but about a friend.  Not a “wink, wink” friend, but really, not me because right now I am a stay at home mom.  This friend, we’ll call her Kate, has been sick.

Kate has a seizure disorder which has been newly diagnosed.  She hasn’t been able to drive a car for about six months because her seizures aren’t totally under control.  She has been to the doctor time after time and despite everything, continued to work dilligently at her job every day.

After ten years of hard work, she receives a letter outlining her employer’s “concerns”.  Apparently in the past 6 months there were three episodes where my friend was “a little confused”, “unresponsive”, or otherwise incapacitated for a period of less than 15 minutes.  That’s it.  Three minor episodes in 6 months.  As an epileptic myself, I can assure you that this is insignificant in the grander scheme of things.

 Instead of showing just a bit of compassion for Kate, her employer hands her a three page letter outlining every single statement she has made about her possible illness and details of the three episodes with a demand that she undergo a full physical and mental health evaluation and sign a release for her employer to contact any medical professionals so they can have input into the evaluations.  Further, they have reserved the right to get a second opinion if they do not like the first one.

Not once has her disability affected a major work decision or her overall performance, but it has made people feel uncomfortable.  They outline this discomfort in their letter as well.  “People feel embarrassed for you”.

Well, when I was having trouble with my seizure disorder 15 years ago, I wasn’t worried about being embarrassed, I was worried about things like hurting myself when I seized or getting my disease under control. 

Kate is a model employee.  I don’t work with her, but I know that she is.  She is dilligent, hardworking and a perfect rule follower.  She stays late without pay and will always get the job done.  When one of her coworkers was sick, she covered for her extensively and she is now not receiving the same compassion.

Why?

Are people that freaked out by others who have seizures?

I know that before I had seizures, I thought that they were only for severely impaired people and not college educated professionals.  I too was afraid, but nothing gets you over the fear of something than having to live with it every day.

To me, this is all about compassion, or in this case, a lack of compassion.  Their fear of what could happen has sparked their need to attack my friend, humiliate her with details I haven’t outlined here and put an already stressed, ill person under more stress.

What is even more disturbing is the agency she works for.  I can’t outline the details, but it’s safe to say that they are in human services.  Maybe a bank or an accounting firm wouldn’t understand or have compassion for a person with a seizure disorder, but an agency that services people with special needs probably should.

If it isn’t already obvious, I am angry.  I am mad that because of a fear of potential liability my friend is being dumped on by her employer despite ten years of service for an illness that is beyond her control. 

Are there any real answers out there?

First Lady Michelle Obama is wearing *gasp* shorts, and on vacation with her family no less!  How do we live with such a scandal?

Here’s a picture of Michelle Obama right here, walking on the White House lawn with the family dog Bo.  Again, she is wearing a pair of shorts.

What are we, the public, to think of such an escapade?

That she was HOT and wanted to enjoy the nice weather. 

Are we really so focused on what people wear instead of who they are that when the First Lady wears shorts it becomes headline news?

This picture was taken earlier in the summer and now scandal is hitting again because Michelle Obama wore shorts while vacationing with her family.  Some argue she is a role model and shouldn’t be seen in shorts. 

They aren’t exactly hot pants and she isn’t holding onto a stripper pole as she walks off of Air Force One.

Maybe we need to focus on what matters, like the reasons why we care if Michelle Obama wears shorts and why we think this is so destructive to society.  Does any mother out there (or father) really think that their daughter is going to be negatively influenced by Michelle Obama because she has on a pair of madras shorts?

Michelle Obama wearing shorts tells me that she is one of us, that she gets hot and she wants to be comfortable.  She is telling me with her actions that expensive suits are hot and she isn’t going to succumb to the “pain for beauty” mantra that many women foolishly subscribe to.

I’m all for shorts, whether on Michelle Obama, the Pope or anyone else that wants to stay cool on a hot day.  Stay cool Ms. Obama, you have more important things to do than care if you are wearing shorts are not.

I was at the orthopedist’s the other day after months of dealing with an impossible left knee.  I put away my softball glove for the summer and stopped daily walks through the neighborhood because of the swelling and pain.

Yes, I’m going to whine here, so my “un-fans” it’s time to leave or at best, not leave a comment that I will delete anyway, but I digress.

I get told by one doctor, torn ACL, surgery, immobilizer, crutches, the works.  One handy MRI later and my ACL is beautiful, healthy.  In fact, my whole knee is great looking in the MRI.  So, what is causing me ridiculous pain when I walk?

Early arthritis.  Fine.  Fine.  I can deal with it.  Yes, I’m 36 and WAY too young in my book, but losing a few pounds wouldn’t hurt either and this gives me more incentive.  I ask the doctor for some 600 Ibuprofen to deal with it in the short term and he agrees it will help. 

I fill my called in prescription, only to realize later I’ve been prescribed diclofenac sodium 75 mg.  Ok, so it’s an anti-inflammatory somewhat like ibuprofen, but as a pill skeptic, I always check side effects to see if they are worth the risk.

The COMMON side effects listed on the sheet given to me by the pharmacy are:  (Now, these are listed as common remember)  nausea; indigestion; rapid heart rate; high blood pressure; swelling usually of face or lips; blurred vision; CNS depression; drowsiness; congestive heart failure; nervousness; numbness or tingling in hands and feet; shortness of breath; jerkings of face, trunk or extremities; irregular heartbeat; chest pain; dizziness; intestinal ulcers; ringing in ears; vomitting. 

It further reads:  If symptoms are mild but do not go away or are bothersome, check with your doctor.  If they are severe, call your doctor immediately.

SO, to recap, in order to treat an arthritic, sore knee, I MIGHT experience a little blurred vision or an irregular heartbeat?  Maybe some facial jerking?  Nausea or indigestion, yeah, I could live with, but congestive heart failure? 

Seriously, I know that the majority of people who take arthritis drugs are older and therefore more likely to experience these symptoms anyway, without taking the drug at all, but really, why in the world would a medication with such severe COMMON side effects be prescribed?

Why do we, as a whole, put our faith in prescribers and prescription drugs?  Yes, I am forever grateful to drug companies for coming up with medications that save people from debilitating disease, but do we need medications that might relieve some pain to be so full of side effects?

I might have lost a ten dollar co-pay, but it was worth it.  I threw the damn bottle away, took some over the counter ibuprofen and I am fine.  No need to risk congestive heart failure for me.

Graduating senior Justin Denney from Bonny Eagle High School went on stage to get his diploma and gestured to his friends and family.  Superintendent Suzanne Lukas sent Denney back to his seat without his diploma.

Superintendent Suzanne Lukas had warned the students not to fool around on stage and she considered Justin Denney’s blowing a kiss to his mother as disruptive and fooling around.  Other students also did not receive diplomas for various reasons including playing with beach balls.

Justin’s mother Mary Denney is reasonably upset.  According to Justin, Superintendent Lukas asked Denney why he thought he deserved his diploma, to which he replied, “because I worked hard and earned it” and Lukas’ answer to him was “No, go take your seat.”

After 13 years in school, receiving your high school diploma is a big accomplishment.  Did Superintendent Lukas really deny Denney his diploma simply for bowing and blowing a kiss to his mother?

 I would hope that Denney is still a high school graduate and that 13 years of work can’t be undone with a gesture or two.  Justin Denney is academically qualified to receive a high school diploma and it would seem that regardless of any antics, he would still get his diploma eventually.

Justin Denney and his mother Mary Denney signed a code of conduct contract before the graduation ceremony on June 12.  His mother Mary Denney does not believe a bow and a kiss out to your mother violates this contract.

Several students had pulled out beach balls.  One student had to sit seperately from his classmates while another was escorted out of the building.

Are we all missing something here?

Beach balls at a graduation can get you escorted out of the building?  A bow and a kiss to your mother can leave you without a high school diploma?

What is going on in a school district where the Superintendent is able to exercise such dictatorial punishments?

Justin Denney should have his high school diploma in hand, but regardless, he will not get to participate in a graduation ceremony and receive it.  Superintendent Lukas ruined this opportunity for Justin and his family.  You don’t get a do over.

 Farrah Fawcett leaving the hospital after treatments for anal and liver cancer.

 If you are looking for a daily dose of humor, today is not the day.  I have been watching the now very public cancer battle that Farrah Fawcett has been fighting for several years now.

 I am digusted that the media is inferring that Farrah Fawcett is “cashing in” on her cancer battle.

Cashing in?  Does the woman on the left look like she is cashing in?

Farrah Fawcett is fighting a losing battle with anal and liver cancer.  A special will be aired tonight on NBC.  Of course, there is money involved, but does it look like Farrah is going to benefit from any of this money?

Scandal has erupted that the producer of her NBC special was threatened by Ryan O’Neal, Farrah’s long time companion and kicked out of the production.  Craig Nevius is now suing her.  What?

Suing a woman who is dying of cancer because he hasn’t gotten a piece of the pie?  Talk about trying to cash in on another person’s suffering.

If Farrah Fawcett wants to produce a special about her battle with cancer, shedding necessary light on the subject, then I thank her.  If she “cashes in”, great, but again, will she benefit from any of the money?

We don’t get upset when sports stars make millions each season or actors make millions per movie, are we really going to bash Farrah Fawcett for telling her story and making money in the process?

It is my guess that Farrah Fawcett and her partner Ryan O’Neal would trade both of their fortunes for a cancer free Fawcett.  The idea that they are cashing in on her illness takes away from her pain, her battle with the disease and her strength to share what is a difficult, trying time in her life.

I am finally a mother after close to ten years of trying to be a parent.  We tried adoption, foster care, and several attempts at getting pregnant. 

 My daughter was born on Friday after an emergency C-section was done on my wife.  She’s been here for 3 1/2 days and it feels like I’ve known my daughter forever. 

I believe there are some things they can’t tell you about being a parent until you are one.  That even baby spit up smells great to you, that poops are exciting and that you will love her instantly even though you just met.

 My life has changed, drastically, but for the better.  There are few words to describe what it feels like to finally be a parent.  The one I keep coming up with is complete.  I feel complete that she is here and that both she and I are exactly where we belong.

I love her, this new daughter of mine, and I can’t remember what my life was like before her even though it was a few short days ago.  I know that I would do anything for her to keep her safe, to keep her from suffering needlessly. 

I love how she smells, how she sounds and how she cuddles up to my neck and then passes out to sleep.  Even when she screeches, I love her.

Welcome to the world little one.  I’ve been waiting for you.

 Currently in Provincetown, Massachusetts, Amiee, also known as “the bearded lady” is a professional body piercing artist.

 She makes no apologies for herself, in fact, she uses the fact that she is bearded to her advantage and runs her business under the name:  “Piercings by the Bearded Lady”.

What is interesting to me about the bearded lady is that she isn’t afraid to be herself and refuses to try and succumb to social norms about gender and beauty.

Yes, I think she is a bit over the top, but sometimes self expression can go to extremes.

To me, women who spend hours looking “perfect” are just as extreme.  I think you can argue that a woman who wears only the right clothes, the perfect make up, has their nails just so and would never be seen without their hair done could be considered just excessive.

I’m all for low maintainance myself, regardless.

No makeup, comfortable clothes, but also no piercings - they take too much time to clean, change, etc., and they hurt. 

I’ve seen Amiee quite a few times because she used to have her business in town.  I can say that she is gregarious, loud, and doesn’t apologize for who she is.  I respect this trait in anyone and although I think (yes, I have an opinion) that it’s all too much, I’m impressed that she takes what she has and goes with it. 

If more of us could accept ourselves for who we are, I think we’d be a little happier overall.

Afterall, why be normal?

Opened in 1858, the Northampton State Lunatic Hospital (later named the Northampton Insane Asylum and finally the Northampton State Hospital), was the home to over 2,500 patients at its peak in the 1950’s. 

Crowding was a significant problem and despite numerous additions, the hospital remained congested in a state of decay when the hospital began discharging more patients than admitting them in the early 1960’s.

John Katzenbach, the author of The Madman’s Tale resides in the area and wrote a fictionalized account of what life might have been like for the many crowded and mistreated patients at the hospital.

Despite the overcrowding, the need for the general public to “rid” society of the insane continued and the hospital remained open until the final patients were discharged in 1993.

Many stories circulate about life in the Northampton State Hospital and one story I’ve heard over the years is about a young girl with 11 siblings.  The girl was about 7 and was tested in reading and math.  She tested a grade or two below grade level.  In order for the general population to be saved from her “retardation” she and all of her genetic siblings were placed at the hospital where they remained throughout childhood.Working in social services, I have met a number of former residents of the Northampton State Hospital that now reside in group homes or nursing facilities.  It is more than disturbing to know that these people, these human beings, were living in such squalor, in overcrowded rooms and left to fend for themselves.

The destruction of “Old Main” the main building of the Northampton State
Hospital was protested and efforts were made to preserve the old building.   Protesters did not win the battle and I watched last summer as bulldozers demolished what was left of the decaying structures.                                                                  What remained of a nurses’ station

Other buildings across the street from Old Main were renovated into condominiums and one building houses several state agencies. 

A discarded room                                      A random stairwell

Blood samples left behind

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Inside a room

I am all for breast-feeding your baby if that is the choice you make.  Before you decide that I am an anti-breastfeeding “how dare they say it’s time to wean you need to write hate comments” kind of person, please continue reading the whole article before you come to your decision.

 Kudos to the mother who feels comfortable breast-feeding her infant in a crowded restaurant.  It is natural and the baby has to eat too.  Whip it out in front of me, I don’t care.  I have my own set and breasts are just not that exciting or offensive to me.  My problem starts when a child just finishes he pre-Algebra homework and then it is time for bed and a little “comfort feeding”.

What?

I was at the OBGYN’s office the other day on our millionth appointment to check out our unborn baby due in April.  The nurse, bored because we had to sit there for over an hour listening to the baby’s heartbeat while she continually moved around, told us a story of one of their most prolific breast-feeding mothers.

It turns out that this mother had three children, ages 8, 4 and newborn.  She was concerned that her infant son was not getting enough breast milk and that maybe it was time to wean his brother. 

Well, yes, the nurse said, at 4 his brother is certainly old enough to eat only solid foods and doesn’t have a need for breast milk anymore.

The mother then said, “oh no, not him, his other brother”.  The 8 year old.  “I still feed him at night for comfort.”

So, here is a breast-feeding mother who does not have enough milk for her infant because she is feeding the 8 year old at night for comfort, her 4 year old when he is hungry and the infant when he is hungry.

At what point does the comfort revolve around what the mother needs vs. what the child needs?

Isn’t the point of breast-feeding your infant (or young toddler) to provide them healthy nutrients and nourishment?  Aren’t there other ways to comfort an 8 year old boy other than breast-feeding him at night?

I’m all for breast-feeding as long as necessary and can even stretch it to a few years, but if he’s on his second set of teeth and has to program the tv remote for you, isn’t it time to stop?