Have you ever been so tired
Sleepy, grumpy, uninspired
That when 'twas time to awaken
You almost needed be shaken?
If you have, I feel your pain
But I really should not complain
For at least I am still talking
And not aimlessly sleepwalking
These days, of all things I hold dear
I have to make it crystal clear
My love for life would be waist deep
If I could only get some sleep
You say you love me, show it now
You’re good at sleeping, show me how!
For I know I’d shake off my blues
If a got a full nights worth of snooze!
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray to God my sleep is deep
For if it isn’t, I will weep
At the loss of my REM sleep.
If I could have this wish, I’d swear
To stand up in the township square
And at full volume, I’d declare
Naps are vital to our health care
So, can you guess what my problem is? Can you?
I have virtually no attention span when I’m sleep deprived. So, since I’m tired all the time, my lengthy prose has turned to rhyme.
Tomorrow, I hope to return with my daily dosage of prose, after I’ve had a full night’s repose. Please help me stop the rhyming, I don’t want poetic timing.
©2006 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Savvy Women's Magazine - Kathy's Kaleidoscope
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
Today, I’ve Seen A Miracle
I sometimes have a difficult time balancing my parenting responsibilities for my children. Both children are artistic, intelligent, inquisitive, and rather sensitive. Oh yes, and they both have the attention spans of distracted wolverines. One child with all those qualities can try one’s patience. Two such “high impact” children, well, that there is a challenge.
I often feel as if I am just barely meeting their parenting needs, for they are often jostling for my attention at the same time they are intentionally taunting each other. A good mother would give such sensitive children her undivided attention, and that would make them get along, right? Okay, so that’s a rhetorical question, but there is a point to this.
Today, I learned that sometimes, if I would just step back and let them work things out, the results are far better that any solution I might offer. And once in a great while, the results are miraculous.
A little background here : My son attends summer school, out of our school district. His school friends do not live near us, for him to hang out with his friends requires synchronized day planners and lots of driving. As he is nowhere near driving age, we parents are the chauffeurs du jour. Usually, this means he only sees his friends on weekends, during the week, he can be found playing some sort of video game. As you can imagine, he is lonely (which translates to “I’m BORED” in twelve-year-old language).
This afternoon, after my kids finished lunch, my daughter asked my son to tag along with her to the library. Today, my daughter has a decoration committee meeting there and tonight, there is a book discussion group she will be attending with her best friend. The discussion group meets once a week, and today, my daughter wants to take her brother. My son, the boy who hates reading. Her best friend is fond of my son, in a little brother sort of way.
With the promise of food and the company of his sister and their mutual friend, my book-hating, people-shy son is right now at the library, reading a book, in preparation for the book club meeting tonight. Okay, so I had to promise him a ten spot, but that is very cheap, considering that until today, I could not get him to go to the library, much less socialize.
Paying my son to read and be sociable - $10.
My daughter opening her brother up to the world of reading and friendship outside his tiny school : priceless.
Here is a poem I wrote to commemorate the occasion. I will never make a living off my poetic efforts, but the sentiment is heartfelt, and that’s what counts.
You’ve always hated reading
You shy away from crowds,
You often play your games, alone
And barely make a sound
But is that you I’m seeing
Making towards the door,
Following your sister
To read and play and more?
Could it be that all it took
To get beyond your shell,
Was the promise of fun and laughs
From those who know you well?
I swear I’d not believe it
If I hadn’t heard it here,
You’re going to the library -
It’s a miracle, that’s clear!
©2006 Kathleen M Wooton, M.D.
Savvy Women's Magazine - Kathy's Kaleidoscope
I often feel as if I am just barely meeting their parenting needs, for they are often jostling for my attention at the same time they are intentionally taunting each other. A good mother would give such sensitive children her undivided attention, and that would make them get along, right? Okay, so that’s a rhetorical question, but there is a point to this.
Today, I learned that sometimes, if I would just step back and let them work things out, the results are far better that any solution I might offer. And once in a great while, the results are miraculous.
A little background here : My son attends summer school, out of our school district. His school friends do not live near us, for him to hang out with his friends requires synchronized day planners and lots of driving. As he is nowhere near driving age, we parents are the chauffeurs du jour. Usually, this means he only sees his friends on weekends, during the week, he can be found playing some sort of video game. As you can imagine, he is lonely (which translates to “I’m BORED” in twelve-year-old language).
This afternoon, after my kids finished lunch, my daughter asked my son to tag along with her to the library. Today, my daughter has a decoration committee meeting there and tonight, there is a book discussion group she will be attending with her best friend. The discussion group meets once a week, and today, my daughter wants to take her brother. My son, the boy who hates reading. Her best friend is fond of my son, in a little brother sort of way.
With the promise of food and the company of his sister and their mutual friend, my book-hating, people-shy son is right now at the library, reading a book, in preparation for the book club meeting tonight. Okay, so I had to promise him a ten spot, but that is very cheap, considering that until today, I could not get him to go to the library, much less socialize.
Paying my son to read and be sociable - $10.
My daughter opening her brother up to the world of reading and friendship outside his tiny school : priceless.
Here is a poem I wrote to commemorate the occasion. I will never make a living off my poetic efforts, but the sentiment is heartfelt, and that’s what counts.
You’ve always hated reading
You shy away from crowds,
You often play your games, alone
And barely make a sound
But is that you I’m seeing
Making towards the door,
Following your sister
To read and play and more?
Could it be that all it took
To get beyond your shell,
Was the promise of fun and laughs
From those who know you well?
I swear I’d not believe it
If I hadn’t heard it here,
You’re going to the library -
It’s a miracle, that’s clear!
©2006 Kathleen M Wooton, M.D.
Savvy Women's Magazine - Kathy's Kaleidoscope
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Four Hundred Words a Day
This past March, I attended the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, a biannual workshop for humorists held at the University of Dayton, in Ohio. Approximately three hundred writers were gathered at Erma Bombeck’s alma mater, to attend sessions designed to help hone comedic writing skills, as well as socialize with other humor writers.
Erma Bombeck was the writer who not only inspired me to write, she also helped form a bridge of understanding between me and my mother. My mother was an avid reader of Erma Bombeck’s column, and her books. As my mother finished reading each of her works, I was waiting, eagerly, to devour Erma’s latest offering of humor, humor steeped in motherly experience, and at times, exasperation, Through her writings, I could see the struggle of motherhood was universal. I also realized that I should cut my mother (the mother of seven children), a little slack, for if three children had Erma on a roller coaster ride, my mother, the mother of seven children, was on an out of control tilt a whirl, with no off switch in sight.
But I digress. One thing I learned from the workshop, from the director himself, was that Erma Bombeck treated writing as a very serious profession, and that she would set aside time every day, to write at least 400 words a day. She did this daily, no excuses, no “writer’s block”; she and her typewriter had a standing daily date that was iron clad. Simply put, writing was a job and writer’s block was no excuse for failing to deliver the product.
Ten days after returning from the workshop, I had the surgery (and aftermath) that literally threw my world into a tailspin. I was tired, I was cranky, and I was definitely not feeling the desire to see the humor in anything. For several weeks, even sitting in front of my computer keyboard was a chore, for I was tethered to an electrical wound pump that was cumbersome and noisy.
The wound pump was eventually removed, yet still I only wrote when inspiration hit me. I figured, wrongly, that in the past 16 months, I had accumulated enough work to write a book. I gathered all my works, the product of my labor, and realized I had, max, 1/3 of a book.
That’s when inspiration really struck. The words of Time Bete, the workshop director, hit me, hard. Four hundred words a day. Had I stuck to that, I would have had two books worth of material.
Ten years after her premature passing, Erma Bombeck is still inspiring me. Four hundred words a day, that is my mantra. My first goal is to consistently produce the work. I can fret over making it funny after the initial product is delivered. Please wish me luck!
Erma Bombeck was the writer who not only inspired me to write, she also helped form a bridge of understanding between me and my mother. My mother was an avid reader of Erma Bombeck’s column, and her books. As my mother finished reading each of her works, I was waiting, eagerly, to devour Erma’s latest offering of humor, humor steeped in motherly experience, and at times, exasperation, Through her writings, I could see the struggle of motherhood was universal. I also realized that I should cut my mother (the mother of seven children), a little slack, for if three children had Erma on a roller coaster ride, my mother, the mother of seven children, was on an out of control tilt a whirl, with no off switch in sight.
But I digress. One thing I learned from the workshop, from the director himself, was that Erma Bombeck treated writing as a very serious profession, and that she would set aside time every day, to write at least 400 words a day. She did this daily, no excuses, no “writer’s block”; she and her typewriter had a standing daily date that was iron clad. Simply put, writing was a job and writer’s block was no excuse for failing to deliver the product.
Ten days after returning from the workshop, I had the surgery (and aftermath) that literally threw my world into a tailspin. I was tired, I was cranky, and I was definitely not feeling the desire to see the humor in anything. For several weeks, even sitting in front of my computer keyboard was a chore, for I was tethered to an electrical wound pump that was cumbersome and noisy.
The wound pump was eventually removed, yet still I only wrote when inspiration hit me. I figured, wrongly, that in the past 16 months, I had accumulated enough work to write a book. I gathered all my works, the product of my labor, and realized I had, max, 1/3 of a book.
That’s when inspiration really struck. The words of Time Bete, the workshop director, hit me, hard. Four hundred words a day. Had I stuck to that, I would have had two books worth of material.
Ten years after her premature passing, Erma Bombeck is still inspiring me. Four hundred words a day, that is my mantra. My first goal is to consistently produce the work. I can fret over making it funny after the initial product is delivered. Please wish me luck!
©2006 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
My column at Savvy Women’s Magazine
Monday, July 10, 2006
I’m Losing Weight
Diana Ross I am not, but after stepping off the scale today, I am so happy, I could sing:
I’m losing weight
I want the world to know
Too bad it doesn’t show
I’m losing
The lost weight is probably all “water weight”, but as long as I weigh less today than I did yesterday, I’m happy. The doctor part of my persona keeps telling me “now Kathy, you know too rapid a weight loss isn’t healthy and could lead to health problems”. I’m not at all interested in that “know it all” part of me. The vain part of me, the part that wants to be a famous writer, the part of me that knows that being a famous writer means lots of public promotion of my work, she wants to look good and will take weight loss any way she can get it.
The current recommendation for effective weight loss is to reduce calories and increase exercise enough so that you lose 1 - 2 pounds per week. That is fine if you have a spare tire you need to lose. But for those of us who look as if we could be trying to smuggle someone under our one size fits all t-shirt and “could clothe a whole family with one pair” baggy jeans, one to two pounds per week lost seems barely a drop in the bucket.
I have lost weight before - sixty pounds over a six month period. After the weight loss, I had the first of two major surgeries. Thirty pounds came back after the surgery; the other thirty pounds came back with the progression of the endometriosis that was discovered with the first surgery - pain had me almost immobile.
I have figured that the reason I am losing basically a pound a day is that after all the forced rest, any exercise is going to result in some kind of weight loss. Combine that with a moderate, definitely not painful, change in my dietary habits, and the weight loss makes sense. I have added many more fruits and vegetables to my diet, and I eat a lot less meat. I do like dairy, and will substitute dairy for meat. I’ve even found some vegan dishes that I like (spaa Naturals Thai dinners - prepackaged, ready to serve, no preservatives, DELICIOUS).
Is it wrong that vanity is behind my desire to be healthier? Is it wrong that my motivation to become a leaner, more fit person is so that I don’t embarrass myself in public? Hell to the NO! If vanity is the only reason propelling me to exercise and make healthful food choices, I’ll say that the ends justify the motivation. I’ll embrace all the “isn’t it wonderful to lead a healthy lifestyle” rhetoric when others can see my weight loss, when it’s not just numbers on a scale. Until then, I’ll be losing weight, singing my Diana Ross at the top of my lungs, vanity leading me all the way to a leaner me!
©2006 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D. See my column at Savvy Women's Magazine - Kathy's Kaleidoscope
I’m losing weight
I want the world to know
Too bad it doesn’t show
I’m losing
The lost weight is probably all “water weight”, but as long as I weigh less today than I did yesterday, I’m happy. The doctor part of my persona keeps telling me “now Kathy, you know too rapid a weight loss isn’t healthy and could lead to health problems”. I’m not at all interested in that “know it all” part of me. The vain part of me, the part that wants to be a famous writer, the part of me that knows that being a famous writer means lots of public promotion of my work, she wants to look good and will take weight loss any way she can get it.
The current recommendation for effective weight loss is to reduce calories and increase exercise enough so that you lose 1 - 2 pounds per week. That is fine if you have a spare tire you need to lose. But for those of us who look as if we could be trying to smuggle someone under our one size fits all t-shirt and “could clothe a whole family with one pair” baggy jeans, one to two pounds per week lost seems barely a drop in the bucket.
I have lost weight before - sixty pounds over a six month period. After the weight loss, I had the first of two major surgeries. Thirty pounds came back after the surgery; the other thirty pounds came back with the progression of the endometriosis that was discovered with the first surgery - pain had me almost immobile.
I have figured that the reason I am losing basically a pound a day is that after all the forced rest, any exercise is going to result in some kind of weight loss. Combine that with a moderate, definitely not painful, change in my dietary habits, and the weight loss makes sense. I have added many more fruits and vegetables to my diet, and I eat a lot less meat. I do like dairy, and will substitute dairy for meat. I’ve even found some vegan dishes that I like (spaa Naturals Thai dinners - prepackaged, ready to serve, no preservatives, DELICIOUS).
Is it wrong that vanity is behind my desire to be healthier? Is it wrong that my motivation to become a leaner, more fit person is so that I don’t embarrass myself in public? Hell to the NO! If vanity is the only reason propelling me to exercise and make healthful food choices, I’ll say that the ends justify the motivation. I’ll embrace all the “isn’t it wonderful to lead a healthy lifestyle” rhetoric when others can see my weight loss, when it’s not just numbers on a scale. Until then, I’ll be losing weight, singing my Diana Ross at the top of my lungs, vanity leading me all the way to a leaner me!
©2006 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D. See my column at Savvy Women's Magazine - Kathy's Kaleidoscope
Sunday, July 09, 2006
I’ve Been Away For a While - Here’s Why
There has been a huge gap in my humor writing of late. This past February, I began a battery of medical tests that ended, on April 4th, 2006 in a total abdominal hysterectomy with oopherectomy. In other words, I was spayed. What should have been a relatively uncomplicated procedure was anything but routine.
A week after my surgery, I returned to the doctor’s office to have my surgical staples removed. The staples were removed, only to reveal that the incision had not healed - my skin and underlying tissue were open. I spent another five days in the hospital with IV antibiotics running, and three times daily wound changes (morphine, take me away) , until two days before discharge. A wound vacuum dressing was applied at that time, and I was discharged with a portable vacuum pump, with thrice weekly dressing changes by a visiting nurse.
I spent five weeks on the pump, with a one week break after the first dressing change (I lost approximately a unit of blood after the first dressing change - I had to beg my surgeon to let me leave the E.R.). I was physically and emotionally drained. The only inspiration I had regarded the vacuum pump that I was tethered to.
When I was finally delivered from the flatulence machine that was the vacuum pump, I had another three weeks of “no heavy lifting or exertion” until my incision totally healed. Wouldn't you know that the very DAY that I was able to go back to normal activities, I overdid it (I was chaperoning for my daughter’s school, as they attended a teen arts festival), with a small tear to the newly healed scar. Another few weeks of limited activity followed, with a minor case of the blues as a result. Writing humor just wasn’t something I could do with any sincerity.
I have been left with a rather interesting scar, as a result of having used the wound pump to speed healing of my open surgical wound. As a result, the front of me looks a lot like the back of me. Now, having a set of frontal buttocks is not a welcome addition to my anatomy, but it has inspired me to write. The only way I can handle this large, disfiguring scar is to find the humor and write about it, until I can have the scar excised. There are a lot of columns to be written, and many pounds to lose, before that happens.
©2006 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Please visit my monthly humor column : Kathy's Kaleidoscope
A week after my surgery, I returned to the doctor’s office to have my surgical staples removed. The staples were removed, only to reveal that the incision had not healed - my skin and underlying tissue were open. I spent another five days in the hospital with IV antibiotics running, and three times daily wound changes (morphine, take me away) , until two days before discharge. A wound vacuum dressing was applied at that time, and I was discharged with a portable vacuum pump, with thrice weekly dressing changes by a visiting nurse.
I spent five weeks on the pump, with a one week break after the first dressing change (I lost approximately a unit of blood after the first dressing change - I had to beg my surgeon to let me leave the E.R.). I was physically and emotionally drained. The only inspiration I had regarded the vacuum pump that I was tethered to.
When I was finally delivered from the flatulence machine that was the vacuum pump, I had another three weeks of “no heavy lifting or exertion” until my incision totally healed. Wouldn't you know that the very DAY that I was able to go back to normal activities, I overdid it (I was chaperoning for my daughter’s school, as they attended a teen arts festival), with a small tear to the newly healed scar. Another few weeks of limited activity followed, with a minor case of the blues as a result. Writing humor just wasn’t something I could do with any sincerity.
I have been left with a rather interesting scar, as a result of having used the wound pump to speed healing of my open surgical wound. As a result, the front of me looks a lot like the back of me. Now, having a set of frontal buttocks is not a welcome addition to my anatomy, but it has inspired me to write. The only way I can handle this large, disfiguring scar is to find the humor and write about it, until I can have the scar excised. There are a lot of columns to be written, and many pounds to lose, before that happens.
©2006 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Please visit my monthly humor column : Kathy's Kaleidoscope
Friday, February 17, 2006
Colonoscopy Cuisine - A Dirge
Clear liquids, Oh yes, you can brew them
But you can't eat or lick or chew them
I'm so hungry, this I swear
I may eat clean underwear
For it is not upon the list
Of foods, today that must be missed
So, think of me while you savor
Foods with texture and with flavor
And as you eat, I'll shed a tear
For all the food that I hold dear
©2006 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
But you can't eat or lick or chew them
I'm so hungry, this I swear
I may eat clean underwear
For it is not upon the list
Of foods, today that must be missed
So, think of me while you savor
Foods with texture and with flavor
And as you eat, I'll shed a tear
For all the food that I hold dear
©2006 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
The Cows Keep Mooving Along
There's no hope,
No holding it in
I give up
Yo cows - you win!
Beam me up, Moozy!
Bovine Queens Invade My Dreams
No matter what I
Do it seems
Bovines will
Invade my dreams
Be it day or
Be it night
Cows are ever
In my sight
Someone help me
Pretty please
I’ll even share some
Of my cheese
Twinkle, Twinkle Dairy Cow
Twinkle, twinkle
Pretty cow
Queen of Dairy
Take a bow
From your udder
Milk we squeeze
And from that we
Make our cheese
Twinkle, twinkle
Dairy cow
You’re the greatest
Take a bow
What’s Brown and Sounds Like a Bell?
The cows go marching
One by one
They leave huge cow pats
By the ton
And while they dry out
In the sun
Let’s think of ways to
Have some fun
If flying cow pats
Are your thing
The sun-dried pats are
Fun to fling
And if you thrill from
Things that SPLAT
Then catapult a
Fresh laid pat
Now if you love our
Mother Earth
Burn pats as fuel, you’ll
Cause some mirth
There’s many things that
You can do
Just please don’t step in
Fresh moo poo.
Udderly Insane
Bovine droppings
Cheddar cheese
Bovine fixation
Help me PLEASE!
Horrid affliction
That's for sure
Quickly, someone
Find the cure!
Dairy deficit is
Not the cause
Perhaps I just need
Cow's applause.
My Mind Has Gone Out to Pasture
I can't stop it,
Good gosh, I've tried.
My non-bovine brain
Has up and DIED!
Cows can make for
Charming verse,
My bovine fetish has
Gotten worse.
Now, when it comes
To writing time
All I get is
Bovine rhyme!
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
No holding it in
I give up
Yo cows - you win!
Beam me up, Moozy!
Bovine Queens Invade My Dreams
No matter what I
Do it seems
Bovines will
Invade my dreams
Be it day or
Be it night
Cows are ever
In my sight
Someone help me
Pretty please
I’ll even share some
Of my cheese
Twinkle, Twinkle Dairy Cow
Twinkle, twinkle
Pretty cow
Queen of Dairy
Take a bow
From your udder
Milk we squeeze
And from that we
Make our cheese
Twinkle, twinkle
Dairy cow
You’re the greatest
Take a bow
What’s Brown and Sounds Like a Bell?
The cows go marching
One by one
They leave huge cow pats
By the ton
And while they dry out
In the sun
Let’s think of ways to
Have some fun
If flying cow pats
Are your thing
The sun-dried pats are
Fun to fling
And if you thrill from
Things that SPLAT
Then catapult a
Fresh laid pat
Now if you love our
Mother Earth
Burn pats as fuel, you’ll
Cause some mirth
There’s many things that
You can do
Just please don’t step in
Fresh moo poo.
Udderly Insane
Bovine droppings
Cheddar cheese
Bovine fixation
Help me PLEASE!
Horrid affliction
That's for sure
Quickly, someone
Find the cure!
Dairy deficit is
Not the cause
Perhaps I just need
Cow's applause.
My Mind Has Gone Out to Pasture
I can't stop it,
Good gosh, I've tried.
My non-bovine brain
Has up and DIED!
Cows can make for
Charming verse,
My bovine fetish has
Gotten worse.
Now, when it comes
To writing time
All I get is
Bovine rhyme!
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
My Third Poem - Will the Mad Cows Never End?
Bovines on the Brain
Please, oh dear Lord
Help me now
My brain’s embracing
All things cow!
Spotted cushions
Valve tranplants
Even mooing
Underpants.
Sirloin steak
And cottage cheese
Stop the mad cows
Pretty please?
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Please, oh dear Lord
Help me now
My brain’s embracing
All things cow!
Spotted cushions
Valve tranplants
Even mooing
Underpants.
Sirloin steak
And cottage cheese
Stop the mad cows
Pretty please?
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
My Second Poem - Could a Cow Be My Muse?
Heaven help me if a book of bovine poetry becomes my first published book.
Line Dancing Hooves
Please, can someone
Tell me now
How to square dance
With a cow?
Swing those udders
To and fro
Watch the bovine
Do-si-do.
Please be careful
Where you dance
Bovines don’t wear
Underpants.
©2005 Kathleen M . Wooton, M.D.
Line Dancing Hooves
Please, can someone
Tell me now
How to square dance
With a cow?
Swing those udders
To and fro
Watch the bovine
Do-si-do.
Please be careful
Where you dance
Bovines don’t wear
Underpants.
©2005 Kathleen M . Wooton, M.D.
Monday, October 10, 2005
My First Poem
I wrote this for a messageboard I frequent. I guess it's obvious, even to the most casual observer, that I'm not a poet. Oh well.
Enjoy.
My Milky Friends
Cows are friendly
Cows are sweet
Their udders squirt
A tasty treat
Milk them, Milk them
If you please
Take that milk and
Make some cheese
Love them cows with
All your might
'Cause cow's milk cheese
Is OUTTA SIGHT!
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Enjoy.
My Milky Friends
Cows are friendly
Cows are sweet
Their udders squirt
A tasty treat
Milk them, Milk them
If you please
Take that milk and
Make some cheese
Love them cows with
All your might
'Cause cow's milk cheese
Is OUTTA SIGHT!
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Today's Column is Courtesy of the Letter "P"
My family and I were in the car, on the way to an appointment. We were discussing what makes words funny. I told them that my writing teacher had told me that some words are inherently funny, like the word puppet. We all agreed puppet was indeed a funny word.
We quickly discovered that many words starting with the letter “p” are funny. Soon we were constructing sentences, trying to outdo each other with the number of P words used consecutively -
Pudding puppets possess pickled pork pants
Pecan prune pie portends painful passage
Porcupines prance pertly past pots of perfect pasta
With two kids in the car, the discussion quickly descended into the potty realm. I will prudently pass on the part of the pow-wow pondering if porcupines possess prickly private parts.
We quickly discovered that many words starting with the letter “p” are funny. Soon we were constructing sentences, trying to outdo each other with the number of P words used consecutively -
Pudding puppets possess pickled pork pants
Pecan prune pie portends painful passage
Porcupines prance pertly past pots of perfect pasta
With two kids in the car, the discussion quickly descended into the potty realm. I will prudently pass on the part of the pow-wow pondering if porcupines possess prickly private parts.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
My First Published Piece - I'm A Real Writer!
Here's my first published piece - I hope you enjoy it!
Change is A Daily Choice
I am one of millions of Americans who are overweight. I have tried dieting, and two years ago, I even lost over fifty pounds. Unfortunately, like so many others who have had major weight loss, I have regained almost all of it, mostly over the past year.
I am a physician. I counsel patients regarding diet and exercise. Yet, here I am, significantly overweight, feeling just as frustrated and defeated as any other dieter who has fallen off the wagon. Knowledge may be power, but it won’t prevent the fork from reaching my mouth when I am overeating. Knowledge, if anything, is like a thorn in my side - I know the dangers of obesity, yet that knowledge is not enough to compel lasting weight loss. For as long as I continue to succumb to emotional triggers for overeating, I will be overweight.
Dieting is difficult. Numerous diet programs and diet products claim to make the process easier, even fun. These programs and supplements do not alter the fact that dieting involves altering eating patterns that have taken a lifetime to establish. Avoidance of entire food groups, taking supplements to kick-start metabolism, substituting shakes for meals - admittedly, these may work in the short run. But, as they don’t address two of the most critical problems dieters face, they are not likely to be successful in the long run. Without seriously and repeatedly addressing emotional triggers for overeating and portion control, even the most sensible diet plans are destined to fail.
Emotional triggers for overeating are numerous. Sadness, loneliness, stress, anger, frustration, low self-esteem - there are many triggers for which food provides comfort. Identifying the triggers and learning new coping strategies, this requires effort and commitment, as well as as a support system. And it takes time. My trigger is the sheer amount of weight I need to lose. If I dwell on it, I become so nervous that I crave food, any food, to blunt the anxiety. Talking about self-defeating.
And then there is portion control. Portion control after almost two decades of unlimited portions is not easy, no matter how you slice it. Implementing said control takes planning. Portions listed on the package or in recipes are smaller, sometimes far smaller, than an “eat until I’m full” portion. The standard now becomes eat until just satisfied. That takes learning, especially when one is a fast eater -its easy to miss just satisfied when one shovels down ones food. Like I do, for example.
Controlling emotionally-triggered overeating and exercising portion control, these are lifestyle changes that need to last a lifetime. My fears are standing right behind those changes.
So, just for today, I will choose to diet. I will not think of the enormity of the task in the long term, I will think of what needs to be done for these 24 hours only.
Just for today, I will choose to change my lifestyle. I will eat for nourishment, not for comfort. I will eat enough to meet my nutritional needs, not to fill my belly.
Tomorrow, I will be faced with those same choices. But, just for today, I choose not to worry about tomorrow.
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
I am a physician. I counsel patients regarding diet and exercise. Yet, here I am, significantly overweight, feeling just as frustrated and defeated as any other dieter who has fallen off the wagon. Knowledge may be power, but it won’t prevent the fork from reaching my mouth when I am overeating. Knowledge, if anything, is like a thorn in my side - I know the dangers of obesity, yet that knowledge is not enough to compel lasting weight loss. For as long as I continue to succumb to emotional triggers for overeating, I will be overweight.
Dieting is difficult. Numerous diet programs and diet products claim to make the process easier, even fun. These programs and supplements do not alter the fact that dieting involves altering eating patterns that have taken a lifetime to establish. Avoidance of entire food groups, taking supplements to kick-start metabolism, substituting shakes for meals - admittedly, these may work in the short run. But, as they don’t address two of the most critical problems dieters face, they are not likely to be successful in the long run. Without seriously and repeatedly addressing emotional triggers for overeating and portion control, even the most sensible diet plans are destined to fail.
Emotional triggers for overeating are numerous. Sadness, loneliness, stress, anger, frustration, low self-esteem - there are many triggers for which food provides comfort. Identifying the triggers and learning new coping strategies, this requires effort and commitment, as well as as a support system. And it takes time. My trigger is the sheer amount of weight I need to lose. If I dwell on it, I become so nervous that I crave food, any food, to blunt the anxiety. Talking about self-defeating.
And then there is portion control. Portion control after almost two decades of unlimited portions is not easy, no matter how you slice it. Implementing said control takes planning. Portions listed on the package or in recipes are smaller, sometimes far smaller, than an “eat until I’m full” portion. The standard now becomes eat until just satisfied. That takes learning, especially when one is a fast eater -its easy to miss just satisfied when one shovels down ones food. Like I do, for example.
Controlling emotionally-triggered overeating and exercising portion control, these are lifestyle changes that need to last a lifetime. My fears are standing right behind those changes.
So, just for today, I will choose to diet. I will not think of the enormity of the task in the long term, I will think of what needs to be done for these 24 hours only.
Just for today, I will choose to change my lifestyle. I will eat for nourishment, not for comfort. I will eat enough to meet my nutritional needs, not to fill my belly.
Tomorrow, I will be faced with those same choices. But, just for today, I choose not to worry about tomorrow.
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Please, If You're Smoking, QUIT, If You Don't Smoke, DON'T START
Peter Jennings died of lung cancer yesterday. Dana Reeve, the widow of Christopher Reeve, a young woman in her forties, has just announced that she has lung cancer. A luminary in television journalism has been extinguished too soon, from a disease caused by years of cigarette smoking, and a young mother and widow is now waging war against a killer. That his death, and her disease, were entirely preventable makes this all the more tragic. They put a face on a disease that is the number one cause of cancer death, for men and women, in the United States.
Most smokers start smoking when they are young. Often, it starts as a desire to be nonconformist, to stand out from family and peers, to be unique. Please, if you feel the need to be a nonconformist, get a tattoo, get some decorative body piercings, find a way to express yourself in the arts, just DON’T SMOKE! Body rings can be removed. Tattoos can be lasered away. Contributing to the arts is a way to insure immortality. Smoking, due to the addictive effects of nicotine, will stay with you far longer than the need to rebel.
It is estimated that there were 170,000 new cases of lung cancer in the US in 1999 (*1). That is a staggering number, but for as bad as that is, there are other causes of smoking-related mortality that claim far more lives. If the threat of lung cancer is not enough incentive to convince smokers to stop, and nonsmoking teens to abstain, maybe these facts will be more compelling motivators (*2). Note - all of these are nicely outlined in the Surgeon General’s Report : The Health Consequences of Smoking: A Report of the Surgeon General - May 27, 2004
http://www.surgeongeneral.gov/library/smokingconsequences/
1. Cancers caused by smoking : Lung cancer is the leading cause of cancer death in smokers, but it is not the only cancer caused by cigarette smoking. Cancers of the mouth, pharynx, larynx, esophagus, stomach, kidney, bladder, cervix and pancreas, as well as myeloid leukemia, these are all linked to smoking.
2. Lung disease : Chronic bronchitis and emphysema (collectively known as COPD, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease) are devastating diseases caused by smoking. Pneumonia, which can be life-threatening, has also been linked to smoking. Accelerated loss of lung function from age, childhood asthma, reduced lung function in newborns - all of these are smoking-related.
3. Cardiovascular Disease : Coronary heart disease (heart attack), cerebrovascular disease (stroke), atherosclerosis, abdominal aortic aneurysm (Lucille Ball died of this), these devastating killers are linked to smoking.
4. Other diseases, such as osteoporosis, peptic ulcer disease, cataracts, hip fractures in the elderly, all are linked to smoking.
5. Fertility and Reproductive Issues : decreased fertility, fetal growth impairment, premature birth and low birth weight, also linked to smoking.
Even more discouraging is the fact that all of these diseases that afflict smokers can, and do, strike the nonsmokers who live with them.
The take home message? If you’re smoking, QUIT; If you’re not smoking, DON’T START! Smoking is not a lifestyle, it is a killer. And cancer is just one of many ways smoking claims its victims. Please don’t let it take you.
8/23/05 - I did not state or imply that Dana Reeves was a smoker. I did state she had lung cancer. 85% of the cases of lung cancer occur in smokers, 15% occur in non-smokers. Studies have shown that a large percentage of these patients have had exposure to second hand smoke. The Surgeon General's paper cited below addresses this.
References :
(*1) Oncology Channel : Lung Cancer :
http://www.oncologychannel.com/lungcancer/
(*2) The Health Consequences of Smoking: A Report of the Surgeon General - May 27, 2004
http://www.surgeongeneral.gov/library/smokingconsequences/
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Most smokers start smoking when they are young. Often, it starts as a desire to be nonconformist, to stand out from family and peers, to be unique. Please, if you feel the need to be a nonconformist, get a tattoo, get some decorative body piercings, find a way to express yourself in the arts, just DON’T SMOKE! Body rings can be removed. Tattoos can be lasered away. Contributing to the arts is a way to insure immortality. Smoking, due to the addictive effects of nicotine, will stay with you far longer than the need to rebel.
It is estimated that there were 170,000 new cases of lung cancer in the US in 1999 (*1). That is a staggering number, but for as bad as that is, there are other causes of smoking-related mortality that claim far more lives. If the threat of lung cancer is not enough incentive to convince smokers to stop, and nonsmoking teens to abstain, maybe these facts will be more compelling motivators (*2). Note - all of these are nicely outlined in the Surgeon General’s Report : The Health Consequences of Smoking: A Report of the Surgeon General - May 27, 2004
http://www.surgeongeneral.gov/library/smokingconsequences/
1. Cancers caused by smoking : Lung cancer is the leading cause of cancer death in smokers, but it is not the only cancer caused by cigarette smoking. Cancers of the mouth, pharynx, larynx, esophagus, stomach, kidney, bladder, cervix and pancreas, as well as myeloid leukemia, these are all linked to smoking.
2. Lung disease : Chronic bronchitis and emphysema (collectively known as COPD, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease) are devastating diseases caused by smoking. Pneumonia, which can be life-threatening, has also been linked to smoking. Accelerated loss of lung function from age, childhood asthma, reduced lung function in newborns - all of these are smoking-related.
3. Cardiovascular Disease : Coronary heart disease (heart attack), cerebrovascular disease (stroke), atherosclerosis, abdominal aortic aneurysm (Lucille Ball died of this), these devastating killers are linked to smoking.
4. Other diseases, such as osteoporosis, peptic ulcer disease, cataracts, hip fractures in the elderly, all are linked to smoking.
5. Fertility and Reproductive Issues : decreased fertility, fetal growth impairment, premature birth and low birth weight, also linked to smoking.
Even more discouraging is the fact that all of these diseases that afflict smokers can, and do, strike the nonsmokers who live with them.
The take home message? If you’re smoking, QUIT; If you’re not smoking, DON’T START! Smoking is not a lifestyle, it is a killer. And cancer is just one of many ways smoking claims its victims. Please don’t let it take you.
8/23/05 - I did not state or imply that Dana Reeves was a smoker. I did state she had lung cancer. 85% of the cases of lung cancer occur in smokers, 15% occur in non-smokers. Studies have shown that a large percentage of these patients have had exposure to second hand smoke. The Surgeon General's paper cited below addresses this.
References :
(*1) Oncology Channel : Lung Cancer :
http://www.oncologychannel.com/lungcancer/
(*2) The Health Consequences of Smoking: A Report of the Surgeon General - May 27, 2004
http://www.surgeongeneral.gov/library/smokingconsequences/
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Cute and Cuddly Capitalism
The video gaming system, a.k.a. THE CUBE. My son had been begging and pleading for it for months. I had held out for as long as I could, for I knew he would be hopelessly addicted to that sucker the moment he lifted it from the box. My husband decided it was high time for our son to join the new millennium, so for his eleventh birthday, it arrived. Well, a gaming system is nothing without games, and the game we got him was an animal homeowners simulation. It had great graphics, cute little animal denizens, and it offered the opportunity to buy a house and live amongst the adorable woodland creatures. It was only later that I learned that what we had given our son was essentially venture capitalism meets Sesame Street.
At first, I was pleased that my son was enjoying himself, building a virtual home alongside the impossibly cute little creatures. After a while, though, it became obvious that this game had him under a spell. The game was all he would talk about, to anyone who would listen. He would protest, sometimes angrily, when he was told it was time to get off the game. He and his sister would fight over whose turn it was to play, and the length of time each of them devoted to the game. My husband and I found ourselves trying to referee their many fights, and I was secretly imagining the many ways I could destroy the game disk and then afterwards, fake total ignorance of its demise.
After one particularly heated struggle, my son and daughter issued a challenge - “You try the game, Mom, and see how easy it is for YOU to stop”. Talk about a bet I couldn’t lose. I knew I could resist the charm of saccharine-sweet village inhabitants, and I had no interest setting up a house amongst them. I accepted the challenge. I was MOM and I was immune to the spell which had ensnared my children. Yea, right.
The premise of the game is as follows. You arrive in a picturesque little town by train, with nothing more than the clothes on your back. You seek out the village shop keeper, who sells you a house and then employs you, so you can pay back your mortgage. He has you deliver things to different townspeople, who give you gifts for your trouble. After paying off a portion of your mortgage, you are free to find other ways to make money. This shopkeeper will buy anything you care to sell him. Anything you can catch, pick, or otherwise acquire can be a source of income. As a homeowner, making lots of money to pay off a mortgage appealed to my very core. Without trying to, I found myself enjoying this foray into cuddly capitalism.
Now, when you pay off your mortgage, you can choose to have your house enlarged. Doing so incurs ever larger amounts of money. Higher ticket items must be acquired and sold to pay off the house. Okay, this introduces a stress element here, as loans are bad and solvency is good.
Oh, and did I mention there is a town committee that judges, and award points, according to how creatively you maintain your house? And that, while paying off your debt, you are penalized for furnishing your house improperly? Forget having eclectic taste - your floors, walls, furniture, and decorative items need to be of the same series or point deductions are made. Certain items can be bought, other items must be given or won,therefore,acquiring all the items in a series takes time and perseverance. Remember the Pokemon craze? Well, this is poke-decorating and you’ve gotta get it all to win. Collecting the required items before the other kid did, that was the hook for my kids. The compulsion to pay off my mortgage and all the expansions, before my children did, is what hooked me.
Soon, we were all fighting over the game. That was when we learned two secrets that turned our obsessions into full-fledged addiction : time travel, and secret codes. If we missed an item, we could go back in time and retrieve it. We could have everyday be (insert holiday of choice here). Soon, though,time travel just wasn’t enough, we wanted the items without the work. My son went on the internet and found the key for us to be the ultimate video slackers- the item codes. With these, we could go to the village shopkeeper, enter a code, and get the items we needed to complete home decor series. Not content to just complete the series, now we wanted scads of money for rare items. We would enter the codes, get the items for free, and them turn around and sell them back full price. Now, we were video-fencing. This couldn’t be legal.
Soon, arguments ensued amongst the children over house size, decor, and money. And both children were sore that Mom paid off her loan first and had a big shiny gold statue in the center of town commemorating that achievement. This wasn’t fun anymore, this was competition and it was getting ugly.
And lest I forget, those cute and cuddly animals were not as nice as they appeared. Some were catty, some were jealous, and some were just plain rude. There is enough of that in real life, we didn’t need computer-created soft toys insulting us.
By unanimous decision, this game is now in cold storage until further notice. Until a patch is developed to counteract the games effects, I will not be revisiting these animated venture capitalists. Frankly, I don’t want to be scolded for my long absence by a video Muppet.
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
At first, I was pleased that my son was enjoying himself, building a virtual home alongside the impossibly cute little creatures. After a while, though, it became obvious that this game had him under a spell. The game was all he would talk about, to anyone who would listen. He would protest, sometimes angrily, when he was told it was time to get off the game. He and his sister would fight over whose turn it was to play, and the length of time each of them devoted to the game. My husband and I found ourselves trying to referee their many fights, and I was secretly imagining the many ways I could destroy the game disk and then afterwards, fake total ignorance of its demise.
After one particularly heated struggle, my son and daughter issued a challenge - “You try the game, Mom, and see how easy it is for YOU to stop”. Talk about a bet I couldn’t lose. I knew I could resist the charm of saccharine-sweet village inhabitants, and I had no interest setting up a house amongst them. I accepted the challenge. I was MOM and I was immune to the spell which had ensnared my children. Yea, right.
The premise of the game is as follows. You arrive in a picturesque little town by train, with nothing more than the clothes on your back. You seek out the village shop keeper, who sells you a house and then employs you, so you can pay back your mortgage. He has you deliver things to different townspeople, who give you gifts for your trouble. After paying off a portion of your mortgage, you are free to find other ways to make money. This shopkeeper will buy anything you care to sell him. Anything you can catch, pick, or otherwise acquire can be a source of income. As a homeowner, making lots of money to pay off a mortgage appealed to my very core. Without trying to, I found myself enjoying this foray into cuddly capitalism.
Now, when you pay off your mortgage, you can choose to have your house enlarged. Doing so incurs ever larger amounts of money. Higher ticket items must be acquired and sold to pay off the house. Okay, this introduces a stress element here, as loans are bad and solvency is good.
Oh, and did I mention there is a town committee that judges, and award points, according to how creatively you maintain your house? And that, while paying off your debt, you are penalized for furnishing your house improperly? Forget having eclectic taste - your floors, walls, furniture, and decorative items need to be of the same series or point deductions are made. Certain items can be bought, other items must be given or won,therefore,acquiring all the items in a series takes time and perseverance. Remember the Pokemon craze? Well, this is poke-decorating and you’ve gotta get it all to win. Collecting the required items before the other kid did, that was the hook for my kids. The compulsion to pay off my mortgage and all the expansions, before my children did, is what hooked me.
Soon, we were all fighting over the game. That was when we learned two secrets that turned our obsessions into full-fledged addiction : time travel, and secret codes. If we missed an item, we could go back in time and retrieve it. We could have everyday be (insert holiday of choice here). Soon, though,time travel just wasn’t enough, we wanted the items without the work. My son went on the internet and found the key for us to be the ultimate video slackers- the item codes. With these, we could go to the village shopkeeper, enter a code, and get the items we needed to complete home decor series. Not content to just complete the series, now we wanted scads of money for rare items. We would enter the codes, get the items for free, and them turn around and sell them back full price. Now, we were video-fencing. This couldn’t be legal.
Soon, arguments ensued amongst the children over house size, decor, and money. And both children were sore that Mom paid off her loan first and had a big shiny gold statue in the center of town commemorating that achievement. This wasn’t fun anymore, this was competition and it was getting ugly.
And lest I forget, those cute and cuddly animals were not as nice as they appeared. Some were catty, some were jealous, and some were just plain rude. There is enough of that in real life, we didn’t need computer-created soft toys insulting us.
By unanimous decision, this game is now in cold storage until further notice. Until a patch is developed to counteract the games effects, I will not be revisiting these animated venture capitalists. Frankly, I don’t want to be scolded for my long absence by a video Muppet.
©2005 Kathleen M. Wooton, M.D.
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