A Sneaky Round…

Leave it to me to not shut up. My blog, my rules. Heh.

First off, to all of you have taken the time to comment, text, private message, call and support BOTH Matt and I right now, thank you. It is unbelievable how many people care and really wanted us to succeed. Overwhelming actually. Thank you.

As you know, I try to keep shit real here. This is real. The last 30 hours have caused a lot of self-reflection. Not right/wrong, but WTF. Then I had an amazing conversation with a friend of mine. Now, V is as opposite to me when dealing with things as we could be. I’m intense, she’s one hair flower wreath removed from Woodstock. And who knows, she could have one of those I just haven’t seen yet. She’s French. I don’t know if that matters. She’s my only French friend. But she had the courage to speak up and tell me what I needed to hear. No, not what I WANTED to hear. Needed. A kick in the arse.

First off, I can be scary. Yup. I probably use that, oops, not probably. I totally use that. Keeps people out. Works magically. I’m intense and that’s me but I needn’t be scary. Scary enough to prevent loved ones to have a real conversation with me. Not good. I need to chill, listen more, forgive more.

Uhhhh, what? Forgive? OF COURSE I FORGIVE, SHUT UP! Or do I? Uh oh. I don’t. I have a list of the Unforgiven a lifetime long. Sure, shit happens and sorry’s were said but did I forgive and move on? Nope. I felt completely justified saying all of these things strung together makes up a whole snowball of crap that can’t be overcome. But then the sorry’s were all for naught. If I haven’t forgiven. And I haven’t, in a lot of cases, but this big one right now has caused a lot of pain. (Now before all of you, “but he has a part in this too” start to speak, ya, I know-he’s busy owning it. I’m talking about me now.)

We’re talking. I’ve forgiven and ya know what? It feels good.  Lighter. Happier. No matter what happens here, I’ve learned a valuable lesson about myself.

I’ve often wondered, especially in the last couple of days, why do so many other couples make it? What is so special about them? Honestly? I dunno. But a lot of fingers are pointing at the F word and it ain’t my all time favorite one with four letters. It’s forgiveness. I have a few more calls to make tonight, on asking for some…and giving some. I’m not sure how the calls will go, it’s scary. And maybe in some cases I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I’ll ask anyway.

Thank you. Now I’ll shut up…

…but prolly not. Heh.

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Talk To The Pharmacist

My Grandpa was a pretty anti-doctor kinda guy. As I’ve said before, he grew up tough in an orphanage in Chicago during the depression and was treated with Polio while there. Instead of folding his cards and deciding to be a ward of the state for the rest of his life like to many are doing today, he fought to survive and strived to always be self-sufficient.

Most illnesses were treated by a heavy dose of YBF. All headaches were “all in your head.” Heh. For realz. But if there was really something that wasn’t going away, he wouldn’t go straight to the doc… but he WOULD go straight to his pharmacist. Should he take something or will it go away? I don’t remember exactly if the pharm guy ever told him to actually go to the doctor but Grandpa was happy with his program. After all, the pharmacist understands the drugs FAR better than the doc who prescribes them depending on how many kickbacks they get. Yes? Yes. (I know, I know, I’m jaded. If there are any doc’s out there all offended now, shut up. You know at least part of that statement has merit.)

The good pharm’s have enough experience to recognize pros and cons to medicine along with possible natural supplements that can be tried prior to chemically altering your body make-up with shit that puts another billion in a pharmaceutical president’s pocket. Many also have an understanding that a diet change can profoundly impact a potential patient to the point of getting them out of their diseased state.

I’m lucky enough to have one come to tosabarbell three times a week and train. So when health declines of our loved ones is found out, he’s my go to guy for possible medicinal fixes. More importantly, he gives expert advice on which medicines to stay away from and why. It’s quite fascinating…having medical professionals in the Bigg guy’s family whose advice may directly conflict with the guy who has spent his life dedicated to knowing exactly how drugs prescribed can either help or hurt a patient.

A simplified view of the current medical field is very similar to coaching barbell lifts. We hit the big stuff first; bottom position on the squat, starting position off the floor in a clean, squeezing the chest up in the deadlift to set the hamstrings. Big stuff first. As we go on, we’ll start nitpicking and taking care of details. So it goes with the doc’s. Symptoms are described, they’ll reach for the most common answer first and see what should be prescribed to fix that problem. Didn’t work? Cross it off (just like certain cues don’t work for some people…cross it off the list.) Narrow the diagnoses…prescribe something different or a different dose. (God forbid they tell people to change their diet, that doesn’t get pharm exec’s their Jet Stream for another year.) Patients can go weeks, months, even years feeling like crap while trusting their doctor. I find that completely unacceptable (I have lots of Grandpa in me.) I don’t want chemicals in my body (barring catastrophic disease) if I can help it. But our medical profession has morphed into an accepted version of the street corner keeper of the drugs. Prescribe, prescribe, prescribe.

Oh sure, there are good ones out there. I personally really like my doctor and if I had anything that needed to be checked out I would trek back to Minnesota to see him. But if drugs are prescribed, I’ll talk to the pharmacist before I take them and first ask what else can be done to battle whatever I’m battling. I’ll also do a little google checking and if I find out that the drug prescribed is in the top five drugs sold in our country, peace out dude. Fok that. I’m not obligated to keep drug companies rich, that’s the government’s job.

When discussing the disease of a loved one last week with someone, the following comment was made (not by me.) ‘Well what does a pharmacist know?’ Actually, they know a lot.  In fact, they’re the ones I’d go to first. Oh ya, I don’t have to go anywhere, I’ll just wait till they come train.

Yeah me.

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Friday Jams

The Ronettes tune, Be My Baby has a far more interesting history than I’d realized. It was near the top of the charts the day President Kennedy was shot; two of the back up singers in the chorus were Sonny and Cher; and Ronnie Spector actually sang in Eddie Money’s Take me Home tonight the phrase, “Be my baby.” Huh.

The song is timeless. Play it for your teen today and they’ll start moving just like grandma did back in the 60’s. Ronnie Spector is the original bad girl of Rock’n’Roll and barely made it out of her marriage to Phil Spector. She’s a survivor.

Enjoy the weekend.

I just received the following wire from my generous Daddy; Dear Jack, Don’t buy a single vote more than is necessary. I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay for a landslide.

John F. Kennedy

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And on That Note…

Yesterday, we talked about the map labeling ‘sconsin peeps as fatties and Packer fans. Heh. This got me and the Bigg guy talking. If we ate with reckless abandon, not giving one shit how the food we eat affects our health; just eating what tastes yummy; or makes us happy; or however else we’ve allowed food to control our lives…here’s our list:

Grilled Cheese Sammiches (yes, it’s #1 for  a reason.)

Dairy Queen (all of it.)

Pancakes/French Toast/Waffles (basically anything that serves as the vehicle to eat syrup by the bucketfull)

Chocolate Chip cookies (oooooooh, I miss cookies.)

Biscuits and Gravy (ooooooooh, the bigg guy misses Biscuits and Gravy.)

Fettuccine Alfredo (thick and gooey with garlic bread. NomNomNom)

PB&J sammiches on white Wonder bread.

Starbucks coffee shakes (that was the Bigg guy, I think they’re nasty.)

Red Lobster (again, Bigg guy. Yuck)

Peanut Butter toast with lots of butter. (When I’m feeling completely run down and have recognized that I haven’t rewarded myself in any way with something scrumptious, this is my go to.)

Breakfast pastries (European food. What happens in Lithuania, stays in Lithuania.)

Donuts (all of them)/Baked Goods/Kringle

Snicker Bar

S’mores (we make smores like this…)

Pizza Rolls

Little Debbie snack cakes and Nutty Bars

Carbonated Sugar Drinks

Dessert: French Silk Pie and Carrot Cake

Potato Chips: Sour Cream and Onion Pringles and Nacho Cheese Doritos

Bologna sammiches with Kraft cheese like substance slices on white bread with Mayo (ahhhhhh, memories of college.)

There has to be more but this is a good start to the list.

Psssst…if these items are regulars on your diet…you eat like crap and probably haven’t really tasted food in years. We’re sad for you.

What’s wrong with extreme dieting and hard-core fitness plans is that they don’t take into account the rest of your life.

Alison Sweeney

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