Wednesday, November 06, 2013

THE PROSTATE AWARENESS BLUES

When I first started blogging back in the Stone Age (2004), I became blogging buddies with many people on MS Spaces.

[Side note]  I wish someone would coin a term for "blogging buddies".  How about calling them "bluddies"?

One bluddy who won my heart through his written words is jockfullonuts or Jnuts as I dubbed him as we discovered we were not only kindred spirits, but also Siamese twins separated at a very young age.  Although this is a repost, I find it just as appropriate for Prostate Cancer Awareness Month 2013 as it was when I first wrote it. 

Here is Jock's rant titled "Footloose and Diaper Free" :
So, it wasn't as bad as I anticipated. There was no rectal exam. This was merely a PSA blood test. If my bloodwork comes back elevated, I will worry about the old finger bang at that time. Which is fine, as my 'roids have been acting up lately and the only way someone is going to shove anything up my ass is after they give me a bottle of tequila and they are in possession of a jackhammer.

When asked if I wanted the rectal in addition to the PSA, I politely declined by saying, "only if you buy me dinner and call me daddy." My offer was refused. I DID get a Tootsie Pop and a blue ribbon enameled pin signifying "Prostate Awareness." I was already aware I had a prostate, but I took the pin anyway.



How could I leave that alone? I honestly tried, but the force was strong within him! I answered the call of the wild with my own little twist titled "A Visit To Dr. Pain's Office" but included his delightful and very insightful words on my blog as a lead in for what I wanted to say:
I'd like to take this opportunity and turn a simple medical diagnostic test into a Men Are From Mars and Women Are From Venus moment. I believe every man I've ever known who has had a prostate exam has described the doctor as having fingers the size of tree limbs and the personality of Marquis de Sade. It's not difficult to picture the doctor coming into the examining room, snapping those latex gloves and telling the patient that the procedure may be a little uncomfortable. Uncomfortable? How about humiliating? And the poor fool isn't even being offered dinner and a movie to go along with it!

I know medical staff do their best to preserve a person's dignity, but how dignifying can a prostate exam be if you're a male or a Pap smear and mammogram be if you're a female? The majority of people reserve access to the vajayjay, the twins and the Incredible Hulk exclusively for their significant other. Now, here we are with an almost total stranger and we're PAYING them to prod and poke us. Nope, we aren’t in some sleazy motel with a prostitute! We're in an examining room with our doctor!

From a woman's perspective, I'd have to say Pap smears and mammograms are most likely the equivalent to the prostate exam. Guys, you're lucky because prostate exams aren't routinely done until a man reaches middle age. Ladies have to endure the joy of Pap smears and pelvic exams annually from the time they first become sexually active. Mammograms aren't started until later, but are routinely done at an earlier age than when prostate exams are started.

For the men who have never had their significant other complain about the whole female going to the gynecologist ordeal, let me fill you in. We not only get the Pap smear and pelvic exam, but we get a rectal exam also. We also have a breast exam and then are sent to have a mammogram depending on what age we are. What can I really say about having a complete stranger stuff my breasts into a cold metal vice and flattening them to the width of a pancake except, "oh boy! Where can I get one of those gadgets to have at home?" (Okay ladies...are you laughing with me?)

I guess the most difficult part of the whole exam experience is the waiting for the results part. Yep! We feel great! We didn't notice any lumps or any other abnormalities, but you never know! You always hear horror stories about someone who feels great one minute and then finds out they have cancer the next. I'm not a fretter and can only imagine what the wait for test results must be like for someone who worries about every little thing in life. They must drive themselves and everyone around them crazy in that period of time. How does anyone reassure or console someone like that?  Crushed valium sprinkled over ice cream, perhaps?  Or a several shots of their favorite liquid poison?

I have a suggestion for both genders. Guys, do something special for your lady to let her know you're there with her in spirit during this process. It doesn't take much to let someone know you care about them. A nice dinner out? A romantic getaway for both of you? Ladies, the same goes for you. Our guys need support, too (remember they're whiners!). How about tickets to a ballgame, taking him to a movie he wants to see (and you pay for it or it doesn't count) or buying something slinky from Victoria's Secret to wear for him? Just remember it's the thought that counts and doing something small may mean the world to the person you love. Actions always speak louder than words and here's an excellent opportunity to say 'I love you" very loudly!


So there you have it except for the comment our beloved Jock left for me as a response to what I had written:
Leave it to you to take my insipid tale about Nurse Ratched and turn it into something extremely worthwhile. I loved it and agree, except for one thing. Men are whiners? Oh, you must die! I'd come over there and slap you, but my back is killing me because I had to do dishes today. Damn, the pain is so intense from standing there it feels like I'm getting ready to give birth! Oh, and my hands are now all pruny and I think I'm coming down with the flu, because I've been sneezing and have a headache. Although, the headache could be from standing over the sink while steam rising from the water made me dizzy and disoriented. Mommy! I need to take a nap.
 

Thursday, October 24, 2013

FROM THE CATHOUSE

Dwight Cat
born 10/08/1996
No intermission is complete without a picture of one's pets. So after that titillating post about the Red Sox, let me introduce you to the eldest member of my zoo. In 1994, I bought 2 Himalayan kittens, a male, blue point who my sons named Beavis and a female tortie point my husband named Dixie. When they got old enough to breed, the female would have a flame point kitten every other litter. I kept a total of 2 kittens, although I have to admit I wanted to keep them all.  The only thing cuter than a furry little kitten is several furry little kittens. One of the kittens I kept was a seal point named my sons named Chewy and one was a flame point we collectively nicknamed Whitey. The seal point was actually the one who insisted on keeping Whitey.  As time grew closer to sell the kittens, Chewy who was almost a year older than Whitey kept separating Whitey from the rest of the litter.  He would carry him like a mother cat would carry a kitten and he would hide him behind or under furniture or put him in a closet if he found one with an open door.  After he did that enough times, I finally got the message.  Whitey was spared, but my husband wasn't. Chewy insisted that it was the right thing to do, so how did I spell relief? D-I-V-O-R-C-E because Chewy always knew best! lol

Thursday, August 29, 2013

WANDERLUST STRIKES AGAIN

I'm off to kiss the Blarney Stone in a few days and anything else my lips feel like kissing as I mull around Ireland. I'll be back mid-September or so and hopefully, I'll have a tale or two to tell and plenty of great photos to post.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT

And satisfaction brought him back. Curiosity is an odd thing actually and what triggers it in each of us is as different and individual as we are. Whereas some people may thirst for knowledge or the meaning of life, others crave simply to find out intimate details about the people around them. We call their curiosity being nosy. I like to find out what makes people tick. I find human behavior and the human brain fascinating. I always find myself watching people when I’m out in public. When someone has some idiosyncrasy I try my best to find out when it started and why. 

I guess my curiosity is a combination of being nosy and seeking some sort of enlightenment. I’ve known some people who are like a sponge when it comes to reading books. They absorb knowledge and use it as they see fit in their lives. Their constant path is one of betterment and positive change. I believe people absorbing knowledge are attempting to reach self-actualization…the highest or most perfect state of being. So what makes you curious? Do you pursue your curiosity to satisfaction or do allow yourself to remain thirsty?

Monday, March 18, 2013

MILDRED'S Rx FOR SERENITY

There's no easy formula to get through difficult times with your sanity still intact. I'm sure each of us has our own method of coping (anything from self-medicating, banging our heads on a wall, contemplating creatively painful ways to make our source of pain suffer as much as we suffer, bellowing out a good old primal scream to quiet walks on the beach, exercising, writing a stinging blog post, listening to music, deep breathing, etc.) I find that when I try to control a situation or someone else's behavior I suffer immensely from frustration, disappointment and emotional exhaustion. It wasn't until I finally was able to let go and let live that I achieved a certain inner peace. I now pick my battles wisely. The small stuff I simply let go and the larger, more important things that need a change, I allow the change to come from within and not externally. I simply stopped looking for solutions in the eyes of others.

In the case of my mother who a few years ago drove me to the brink of having a nervous breakdown, I simply use common sense now. Her health and well-being are first and most important. The rest, like it or not are her decisions and wishes. Sure, she still does exactly as she's always done, but it's me who has changed how those things affect me. It's no longer a power struggle between us. I've discovered we can enjoy whatever time left we have together without a perpetual tug-o-war. The thought of my last memories of her being so negative didn't sit well with me. I knew I needed to change that. As for my siblings and their relationship with her...well, it's exactly that...their relationship and not mine. They are the ones who have to look themseleves in the mirror. It just isn't worth all the chaos and bad feelings it causes by placing myself in the middle and it rarely accomplishes anything positive for anyone involved. And I really do feel okay with my present stance. That's what matters most, isn't it?

About a year ago I taped the Serenity Prayer on the wall above my computer. I say it EVERY day and some days I say it MANY times. No, I'm not a religious person, but I do find a certain unmistaken wisdom in those 25 words. I'm not entirely sure about the "GOD" part, but in my case, I believe "God" is the inner peace and serenity I seek and not some ageless, mystical being sitting somewhere in judgment of us all. My God is forgiving and allows me to love unconditionally even those people who have hurt me the most in life. My God allows compromise. I no longer have to be right or have things go the way I want them. All that has fallen by the wayside as my perspective and priorities have changed. My God allows me to see that everything happens just as it's supposed to happen and that even the horrible, devastating things in life have a purpose by making me a stronger and more compassionate person. I've learned making mistakes is okay as long as I learn from my mistakes. I've learned NO ONE is perfect and that getting through the most difficult days is done by putting one foot in front of the other and not letting pain paralyze me. I've learned that I am who I am because of ALL the experiences in my life. I've come to believe that I wouldn't have these insights without the pain...or without the joys I have felt along the way. I no longer feel a need to apologize for my past or to place blame. It is what it is! I can either find comfort and strength in knowing I'm a resourceful survivor or I can drown in my own pain by allowing myself to remain an emotional cripple. I choose courage and wisdom! I choose sanity for the first time in my life!


Friday, March 15, 2013

THE IDES OF MARCH

The one thing I find glaringly apparent about those who blog regardless of the person's age, sex, cultural background, economic status or sexual orientation is that we all hold the right to express our feelings and opinions via the written word in high regard. The technology of the past few decades has provided us with an excellent medium for doing just that with countless people we would have otherwise never known. I truly wish more people would come out of the shadows and learn to voice what's brewing just below the surface because you never know when sharing a personal experience or an opinion might help someone else through a difficult time. Even negative feedback seems to have a home here and often times has a positive outcome by bringing people closer together.

The things I write about come mostly from my personal experiences in life and from the thoughts that randomly race through my head. Although I'm fast approaching that golden age of being older than dirt, I find it refreshing that a blog can be ageless and timeless. To be able to bridge the generational gap and find a common ground or to be able to reach across the gender gap and make the other side have a lightbulb moment keeps us all forever young and acutely human. We don't mature into an entirely new or different person, we just become an older and hopefully wiser version of who we were when we were young. Basically, I think regardless of our differences, we all strive to maintain a certain pursuit of happiness and sometimes that pursuit gets clouded by the horrors of everyday life, but without that pursuit, life is void of meaning and purpose. So for what it's worth, I hope all your lives are filled with happy hunting, endless lightbulb moments and the courage to remain open-minded. I want to thank each of you who visit Mildred for taking the time to take advantage of your freedom of speech by leaving heartfelt and thought-provoking comments. I love you all!

Sunday, December 09, 2012

A LIFE INTERRUPTED

The act of dying and how it affects friends and loved ones is difficult at any time of the year, but during the Christmas season it seems to intensify by a hundredfold. Many times in the past month during moments of silent lucidity, I've found myself lost in deep thought and when the realization that most of what happens in life are things meant for people to just accept without question, I struggle desperately with that acceptance especially when it involves the untimely death of a kind, gentle soul.

I know we all live and eventually die. The end unfortunately will come like an unwelcome visitor that we cannot avoid. As the end grows near, the ability to see a clear light at the end of the tunnel no longer exists. A new light emerges within us and we are able to let go of all we have known and loved as the light illuminates the pathway we all must take. That old phrase "and this too shall pass..." has vanished into some dark, abyss and what we are faced with is a journey into the true unknown.

The process of our final decline is a difficult process for all involved. We not only shutdown physically, but often times, we shutdown emotionally as well. At that point, hindsight and foresight become one very narrow view and a social death often times precedes the actually physical death we will experience. For many of us, we enter and exit life the same way...alone! Yet, how uplifting an experience it is to witness a family come together and rally around a loved one to make their transition easier. In the past month, I have seen courage as I have never seen it before. I know I have been in the presence of true love and amazing grace.

Each time throughout my life when death has called, I've asked myself what is death? Is it the end or a beginning somewhere beyond our comprehension? I know religious people can quote many passages from the Bible depicting how the afterlife will be. But can the afterlife really be a state of perfection for such imperfect beings? And how are we imperfect beings supposed to adjust to all that perfection? Won't all the harp playing and singing become deafening and maddening? Won't it make those blissful souls seated in such angelic dwellings wish for something a little more "earthly" or less perfect? A road less traveled, perhaps? I've never been one to go quietly into the night! The norm has always bothered me and as I get older, I find myself asking "why" a lot more often than I did during my defiant youth. For now, I smile knowing that I'll always sing a little off key and forget the lyrics from time to time no matter where I am or who I'm singing with.

Saturday, December 01, 2012

THE THINGS MONEY CAN'T BUY

I've decided 2013 is going to be a banner year for me. Why? Well, why the hell not? I've decided to cast aside my health problems and other woes and either sink or swim. Yep, I'm going to finish out this bitch of a year and dare the next one not to yield some great stuff for me. I'm going to end this year not by making a list of foolish resolutions that I can't or won't keep, but by simply allowing myself to experience some much needed joy and even some decadent pleasure here and there instead.

I sometimes write questions in my posts and more often than not the questions aren't aimed at reflecting how I personally feel about something, but as a question just thrown out in cyberspace hoping for some light to be shed on a topic by others wishing to leave their imprint upon this empty vessel. I like when people interact and share what's inside (that's something there should be more of in the world instead of bitching and not listening to one another).

I've always been a people watcher and make a plethora of observations. I have to admit the conclusions I form from my observations are entirely based from a single-minded way of looking at things. I've always prided myself in being an open-minded individual, but how open minded are any of us when the only way we can see things is through our own eyes? Perhaps, next year will be different!

Sometimes I sit in a restaurant and see those around me not interacting with each other and I wonder how two people could possibly sit and eat a meal and not have anything to say to each other. Maybe silence is golden and most likely what I think I see isn't how things really are. Perhaps the anger, the frustration and the silence I think I see is really something else...perhaps indigestion, the flu or a work-related headache?

One person claims to hear the voice of God and who am I to say that God has not spoken to that person or that God doesn't exist? Oh yes, I can claim the person is mentally ill or explain what they claim to hear or see by using good old rational thinking and logic, but to that person who heard the voice or saw a vision, wasn't it real? How about a person who is a true visionary, someone ahead of their time and a great leader or on the other end of the spectrum a tyrannical dictator? Both see things in a way that others can't or won't. They set out to change the world one person at a time by trying to alter others perceptions of reality. A skeptical person has a hard time taking a leap of faith, but it does happen. When skeptics leap, they do it with their eyes wide open. Just look at history and just ask yourself how logical or rational life really is!

And for those doubting that the spirit of Christmas really exists, all they need to do is open their heart and reach out to someone in need. What better way of saying "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" than by giving to someone else and not expecting anything in return? What better way to keep the Christmas spirit alive all year long than by stepping outside yourself and paying it forward wherever and whenever you can? Things that might not mean much to you when given to someone else might be the miracle they've been waiting for or the spark that might ignite a chain reaction of giving and not taking. Good will might be as infectious as the flu and just might change things one person at a time! So, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I hope everyone who stops by has the same type of awakening in the new year that I intend to have.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

THE HOUSE WITH PEACOCK CURTAINS

The year was 1974. I remember eating a lot of bologna sandwiches and actually liking them. Sometimes those bologna sandwiches were washed down with mushroom tea. I guess when you’re young and perpetually high, eating anything tastes great even the putrid tasting mushroom tea cut with kool-aid in attempt to hide the horrid "earthy" taste.

We lived in a small 2 bedroom house on Highway 90 in Chipley, Florida (population: approximately 3,000). My bedroom had peacock curtains. Looking back, I really think those curtains were symbolic of my life and times…loud, proud and wowed. We would fell asleep each night listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd and Pink Floyd then awake to Bad Company. And in between there was sex, sex, sex…lots of drugs and a few bologna sandwiches to keep our strength up for those midnight rodeos.

We were 3 females, Carol, Theresa and I who lived together, worked together at Evergreen Construction Company and played hard together. Of the three of us, I was the only one who stupidly got pregnant during that era. I had a beautiful baby girl, but my life was meant for anything, but traveling down some conventional avenue. I was on the fringe teetering gracefully on the edge and there I have remained doing my own thing whatever and wherever that thing has been over the years. Carol married and became a teacher. Theresa remained single and I have escaped finding a love as colorful as those peacock curtains. 

Those days seem like so long ago, yet when I get together with Theresa or any old friend it all seems like just yesterday. Our lives have changed immensely over the years, but I think the more things change the more they ultimately remain the same. So in remembrance of those good old days and the people who imprinted themselves upon my life, I flick my Bic and inhale slowly…deeply until my smile glows from within and the memories warm my chilly heart. Here's to you, the peacock curtains and the love I've yet to find!

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

STAYING ALIVE

While many people participated in the Disco Era, I was someplace else altogether. I was actually as the song says "staying alive" (Ah, ha, ha, ha, staying alive, staying alive Ah, ha, ha, ha, staying alive...) I do however, remember the music well and now, I have to admit when I hear all the pulsating melodies, it makes me want to shake a tail feather (do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight, get down tonight). Back then, the music seemed so disconnected from where I came and from where I was headed. I now wonder if Donna Summer or Robin Gibb reside in the great hereafter along side all the other great and legendary singers and musicians who are gone, but not forgotten? It makes me wonder where John Travolta would be today without disco. Would he have forever remained just Vinnie Barbarino?

You know, sometimes I really wish I had faith and the same spiritual connection everyone else I know seems to have. Sometimes I want so much to believe as they do and wonder why my thoughts...my heart...my compass keeps me from seeing and feeling what they do where God is concerned. I don't fear death nor do I welcome it, but somehow I'm left out of the loop when it comes to believing that the hereafter is some grand reunion where all things are made infinitely perfect and we miraculously are reunited with one another. Wow! That's just way beyond my comprehension and paygrade. My beliefs seem rather sedate and quite boring compared to that. I think I'll stick to simpler things like hating Walmart. Yes, there I admitted it. I HATE WALMART! I guess that makes me among other things simply and utterly unAmerican.

I really believe if Christians want to find the true Anti-Christ, they need not look any further than their local Walmart Superstore. Who else, but the Devil Himself would coerce an innocent shopper into spending $200 when all they needed was a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread? Who else, but Satan would stock a store that prides itself on being the all-American dream corporation with goods primarily made in China? Yessiree, I think Walmart is one of the greatest clusterfucks on Earth ranking right up there with Logan Airport and driving Interstate 95 between Boston and Richmond (I'm sure other parts of the country have comparable versions of my all time favorite things). Now, that I've gotten that out of my system, I can go about my merry way and prepare for my drive to North Carolina on Thursday. Oh boy, I get to drive through Atlanta and if I'm really lucky I can hit rush hour traffic both going there and coming back.