My daughter said my blogs have been too serious lately. I should lighten up. So I thought I would write about sex.
Having gone to my 43rd high school reunion this month, I tried to remember old thoughts that I had tucked away in my aging brain. I can honestly say I don't remember learning about sex in high school.
The first recollections of a hint about sex was in the 9th grade when I was running around with a girl whom I was told was classed as "poor white trash." Having moved to the South in the 60's, there were no color or race minorities in my school, only Whites; so it boiled down to different Caucasian discriminating classes: poor, poor white trash, middle class, rich, popular, and unpopular groups. I never saw the differences in the classes because people were just people to me. I didn't care how much money they had or where they lived. I only cared that they were good people. Life was simple.
Life was very simple if your good friend isn't pregnant. How did that happen? I had ran around with her in school but had no idea what her life was like after school when I left on the school bus to go home. One minute she is there; the next minute she is gone. That is what pregnancy can do to you: take you out of school; never to be seen again.
How scary was that?
In the South, people seldom talked to me about anything that I thought was important, like sex. I do remember our family having a 3-D fold out body of a pregnant woman that opened up with a baby inside of her. I do remember opening the bathroom door, surprising my naked father. It was a quick flash of what a penis looked like. Since it was attached to a human and I know what humans are, it didn't frightened me. At the time I thought it was more like a deformed arm that was hidden from society because it was a disgrace to mankind.
The same year my friend got pregnant, the home economics teacher handed out a very simple leaflet about menstruation. It had no detailed information and she never talked about it. I had no clue why the teacher gave it to us. So I read it and prayed to die. If I didn't die then, a painless death; I would surely bleed to death, according to this leaflet; however, everyone else acted as if menstruating would be the greatest coming; just short of Jesus Christ.
And finally when it did happen as late as the summer of my junior year, it was nothing extraordinary or horrifying; except for, all the other girls in summer camp making fun of me because I didn't know how to use the tampons that my mother handed me on the way out the door. I was clueless anyway, so it didn't bother me that everyone made fun of me; I was just perplexed that No one tried to explain anything to me to make life easier; until my senior year.
My girlfriend, Linda, did try to educate me while we were still seniors. She wanted me to read an excerpt from a popular book she was reading at the time called A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I learned later that it was suppose to teach young people about sex. I never read the book. I just read where she told me to read. When it came to the part of the excerpt where the little girl saw a strange man in the hallway and noticed, I think, it said: a "worm" like creature coming from his pants; I thought the worm was an alien from another planet.
Doesn't anyone speak English?
I was a sophomore in college when I finally forced myself to learn to use a tampon because I was determined to switch to a product that was more sanitary. But being a virgin, it was not easy. I told my roommates that I was going into the bathroom to learn to insert a tampon. After a very long while, they wondered what happened to me. I did come back slightly disoriented and ruffled. It was difficult climbing out of the toilet after I passed out.
I guess it's not so bad to say my first sexual counter came from a tampon. I wonder where it is now. I should set up a memorial, so my husband can thank "it" every day for saving him from being the "first."
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Kristine: Getting Back to Normalcy
Anyone having seen Kristine a few years ago when her delusional state of mind with other worldly thoughts were seen through her glazed over eyes; would believe in miracles, if they saw her today.
Her constant fear of being pursued by the devil because she was holy.
I am sure these thoughts are shared by many religious people; although Kristine was not very religious at the time, so maybe the devil was after her.
I stayed up for 3 nights with her, prior to her first meeting with a psychiatrist, to assure her that she was safe with us. Her psychiatrist at that time acted as if Kristine just needed a pill to calm herself down. She was rather cavalier in her administering of drugs. Kristine complained of stomach pain after taking Abilify in which she stopped eating. The doctor said it was all in her head as her other patients don't complain. The doctor told me to increase the medication by 1 1/2 times; ignoring Kristine's complaints because Kristine is mentally ill after all and delusional, what would she know?
The drug sent Kristine over the top. She cut off her long hair within an inch of her scalp and started screaming at the top of her lungs. She tried stabbing her eyes with scissors, but I could see she did not have the will power to go through with it as she was just going through the motions of stabbing but never quit reaching her eyes. I grabbed her with all my strength to keep her from harming herself but she was bigger and fought back with all of her strength, so I started hitting her with a hairbrush. She cried out in pain. I yelled at her, " a hairbrush is nowhere near as painful as stabbing out your eyes."
I could see where this was going. I would call for emergency help. The police, the medical people, the firemen would all come and stand around for an hour talking about the situation. Then they would take her to the hospital for observation for 24 hours while we sat around waiting for the hospital psychiatrist to evaluate her. For some reason the doctor was never there when we arrived around 5 PM; they managed to show up at 3AM. By then we are all exhausted.
Having gone through this procedure many times before, I would always instruct Kristine to say, "I am not suicidal," so they won't send her to the mental ward. Once she tells the psychiatrist the magic words: 'I am suicidal,' they immediately send her off to the loony bin where they have a habit of over drugging the patients.
The main purpose, I believe, in the mental institution's psychiatrist, is to dope up the patient so they won't hurt themselves or others. That is, a patient coming from a mental institution can be drugged to a level of comatose and that would be fine with them. They don't care if the person is lying around in a lobotomy state. Therefore, I do whatever I can to keep Kristine from the really loony doctors. I am sure they would appreciate my analogy but it comes from experience having been to more than five mental wards; including UCLA; UCI, etc.
Whereas, the main purpose for the outpatient psychiatrist such as the ones at Appleton House and Gould Farm, is to manage the drugs a patient takes so they can "function in society." Completely the opposite use of drugs and intentions from the intentions of a mental ward.
Yes, Kristine was psychotic before she was on prescription drugs. I never thought to take interest in the character Kristine said she identified with in the Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath, who had mental illness.
In college she had tried calming her fears of going crazy and having anxiety through drinking and experimental drugs. After she graduated from college, she told us she felt she was going crazy, but we did not take it too seriously.
By this time, Kristine was trying to save herself without her parent's knowledge. She was taking holistic drugs with the thought that she would naturally rid the parasites in her body; that she saw in her feet when she and her fellow classmates took a trip down the Panama Canal, stopping off at little villages. She thought the parasites were affecting her body and mind. Why was she going crazy.
I told her to see a psychologist. She did, but he did more harm, as he later admitted. He did not know how ill she really was; therefore, he had encouraged her to question her parents about her upbringing; alienating her from us and the only support she had to fight her demons.
It wasn't until the night she stopped her car on Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood, CA, getting out to walk in the middle of the street; thinking she was Jesus Christ, that we were woken up by the cops into a nightmare because mental illness was an unknown to us.
One thing lead to another. After she graduated from USC, she found herself working an 80 hour week for the mortgage company in 2003 when homes were flying off the market. Coupled with organic foods, holistic drugs and yoga twists that turned into sculptural abstract shapes for any body. She did it all and it came crashing down on her like an apocalypse: thus, her Jesus Christ moment; followed by the devil taking her.
While Kristine was running from me all over the house, trying to stab herself, I called the emergency unit to come help me; all the while trying to physically stop her and give her a Klonopin pill. A pill for anxiety to calm her down. Try physically fighting with someone to keep them from injuring themselves AND encouraging them to take a pill. No human feat.
I knew that if she had this pill she would be calm enough to avoid another mental ward. I felt she only needed a good psychiatrist who could manage her drugs; thus, Dr. Irvin.
She was so relaxed when the emergency medical team showed up; but she was also not well enough to stay out of the ward. I spend the other half of my time trying to keep the mental ward from over drugging her and getting her out.
Today, if you read my previous blog Kristine's First Week at Le Cordon Bleu, you can see the progress made, if only through the determination that Kristine has, to fight for her right to normalcy; and the determination of all those who support her, including the medical profession; as leery as I am of the profession as a whole.
Following the last blog episode of Kristine's adventures, as I have come to view them; Kristine worries about immediate tasks at hand, but you could never tell because her drugs keep her thoughtful and restful in appearance; although her mind is anxious at times.
It's only her third week of classes and she is already on a roller coaster ride to achieve her goals. We have seen other young people at Appleton and Gould farm who are over achievers on a mission that takes their body and mind to task beyond normalcy. They do not want to slow down.
She made the highest grade in class on her sanitation test this week. She was annoyed when only one other student showed up for their group project. To avoid a bad grade; she did the group's entire PowerPoint presentation, including writing all of their presentation speeches. She studies non-stop by reading, writing, making flash cards; slicing and dicing vegetables. The 1 1/2 hour drive to class is not stressful for her. She has always liked driving while listening to the radio. She calls that relaxation.
Yes, she has anxiety. She keeps her voices at a minimum. Although she appears lacklustered because of the drugs which I hope will change in time when the drugs have done their job of repairing her brain; she is anything, but lacklustered in action and spirit.
Her constant fear of being pursued by the devil because she was holy.
I am sure these thoughts are shared by many religious people; although Kristine was not very religious at the time, so maybe the devil was after her.
I stayed up for 3 nights with her, prior to her first meeting with a psychiatrist, to assure her that she was safe with us. Her psychiatrist at that time acted as if Kristine just needed a pill to calm herself down. She was rather cavalier in her administering of drugs. Kristine complained of stomach pain after taking Abilify in which she stopped eating. The doctor said it was all in her head as her other patients don't complain. The doctor told me to increase the medication by 1 1/2 times; ignoring Kristine's complaints because Kristine is mentally ill after all and delusional, what would she know?
The drug sent Kristine over the top. She cut off her long hair within an inch of her scalp and started screaming at the top of her lungs. She tried stabbing her eyes with scissors, but I could see she did not have the will power to go through with it as she was just going through the motions of stabbing but never quit reaching her eyes. I grabbed her with all my strength to keep her from harming herself but she was bigger and fought back with all of her strength, so I started hitting her with a hairbrush. She cried out in pain. I yelled at her, " a hairbrush is nowhere near as painful as stabbing out your eyes."
I could see where this was going. I would call for emergency help. The police, the medical people, the firemen would all come and stand around for an hour talking about the situation. Then they would take her to the hospital for observation for 24 hours while we sat around waiting for the hospital psychiatrist to evaluate her. For some reason the doctor was never there when we arrived around 5 PM; they managed to show up at 3AM. By then we are all exhausted.
Having gone through this procedure many times before, I would always instruct Kristine to say, "I am not suicidal," so they won't send her to the mental ward. Once she tells the psychiatrist the magic words: 'I am suicidal,' they immediately send her off to the loony bin where they have a habit of over drugging the patients.
The main purpose, I believe, in the mental institution's psychiatrist, is to dope up the patient so they won't hurt themselves or others. That is, a patient coming from a mental institution can be drugged to a level of comatose and that would be fine with them. They don't care if the person is lying around in a lobotomy state. Therefore, I do whatever I can to keep Kristine from the really loony doctors. I am sure they would appreciate my analogy but it comes from experience having been to more than five mental wards; including UCLA; UCI, etc.
Whereas, the main purpose for the outpatient psychiatrist such as the ones at Appleton House and Gould Farm, is to manage the drugs a patient takes so they can "function in society." Completely the opposite use of drugs and intentions from the intentions of a mental ward.
Yes, Kristine was psychotic before she was on prescription drugs. I never thought to take interest in the character Kristine said she identified with in the Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath, who had mental illness.
In college she had tried calming her fears of going crazy and having anxiety through drinking and experimental drugs. After she graduated from college, she told us she felt she was going crazy, but we did not take it too seriously.
By this time, Kristine was trying to save herself without her parent's knowledge. She was taking holistic drugs with the thought that she would naturally rid the parasites in her body; that she saw in her feet when she and her fellow classmates took a trip down the Panama Canal, stopping off at little villages. She thought the parasites were affecting her body and mind. Why was she going crazy.
I told her to see a psychologist. She did, but he did more harm, as he later admitted. He did not know how ill she really was; therefore, he had encouraged her to question her parents about her upbringing; alienating her from us and the only support she had to fight her demons.
It wasn't until the night she stopped her car on Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood, CA, getting out to walk in the middle of the street; thinking she was Jesus Christ, that we were woken up by the cops into a nightmare because mental illness was an unknown to us.
One thing lead to another. After she graduated from USC, she found herself working an 80 hour week for the mortgage company in 2003 when homes were flying off the market. Coupled with organic foods, holistic drugs and yoga twists that turned into sculptural abstract shapes for any body. She did it all and it came crashing down on her like an apocalypse: thus, her Jesus Christ moment; followed by the devil taking her.
While Kristine was running from me all over the house, trying to stab herself, I called the emergency unit to come help me; all the while trying to physically stop her and give her a Klonopin pill. A pill for anxiety to calm her down. Try physically fighting with someone to keep them from injuring themselves AND encouraging them to take a pill. No human feat.
I knew that if she had this pill she would be calm enough to avoid another mental ward. I felt she only needed a good psychiatrist who could manage her drugs; thus, Dr. Irvin.
She was so relaxed when the emergency medical team showed up; but she was also not well enough to stay out of the ward. I spend the other half of my time trying to keep the mental ward from over drugging her and getting her out.
Today, if you read my previous blog Kristine's First Week at Le Cordon Bleu, you can see the progress made, if only through the determination that Kristine has, to fight for her right to normalcy; and the determination of all those who support her, including the medical profession; as leery as I am of the profession as a whole.
Following the last blog episode of Kristine's adventures, as I have come to view them; Kristine worries about immediate tasks at hand, but you could never tell because her drugs keep her thoughtful and restful in appearance; although her mind is anxious at times.
It's only her third week of classes and she is already on a roller coaster ride to achieve her goals. We have seen other young people at Appleton and Gould farm who are over achievers on a mission that takes their body and mind to task beyond normalcy. They do not want to slow down.
She made the highest grade in class on her sanitation test this week. She was annoyed when only one other student showed up for their group project. To avoid a bad grade; she did the group's entire PowerPoint presentation, including writing all of their presentation speeches. She studies non-stop by reading, writing, making flash cards; slicing and dicing vegetables. The 1 1/2 hour drive to class is not stressful for her. She has always liked driving while listening to the radio. She calls that relaxation.
Yes, she has anxiety. She keeps her voices at a minimum. Although she appears lacklustered because of the drugs which I hope will change in time when the drugs have done their job of repairing her brain; she is anything, but lacklustered in action and spirit.
Friday, August 27, 2010
What I've Learned About Men
Nothing. Absolutely Nothing.
I thought I would be honest.
It just came to me, while I was mulling over in my brain, how all these years of living, nothing has changed in the relationship between men and women. Maybe some things because of government laws, but not in the department of understanding the opposite sex.
I have heard repeatedly from young women that lots of men still like to play games when it comes to relationships; and so do some women. Does that ever change? No.
I think men and woman try to figure out what the other sex is thinking or what the other, is going to do using their own imaginary hypothesis to react to or plan a strategy; instead of just 'going with the flow."
I didn't realized how my husband was manipulating me until I was in a conversation with my daughter about one of her old boyfriends. I can't believe I fell for that manipulative cue. It was subconsciously acted and reacted for years. Like being brain dead. So I started retaliating by countering his remarks with, "You are making no sense. You are accusing me of something you do all the time."
This rut usually happens with married couples who subconsciously get in the habit of reacting to old cues they repeatedly received from their spouse. Although, there are many couples who know the game that is being played on; and by them; not in a malicious way; that like it because there is 'no guessing'; the roles are established, but Not so with new and young relationships.
Consciously and subconsciously the opposite sex will use whatever it takes to get what they want; thus the game. Sometimes they are not aware of using tactics; they are only aware that the response to that tactic works for them; until the other one catches on. Then the game is over and so is the relationship, sometimes.
A good example was the date I had with a fellow lieutenant in the Air Force. He decided playing his own game; all by himself. He did not call me for two weeks after one date. When he did call, only then was he honest. He said he was "teaching me a lesson" because on our first date he had gotten mad at me for accepting an invitation to sit with my friends at the club. He chose to go to the place where I always had lunch with my friends; but he wanted our own table. I didn't know it was an intimate date; considering the club is always a crowded rowdy place.
Then he asked me what I was doing now; as if nothing was wrong with his controlling behavior.
I told him that I got engaged while sitting around waiting for his call. With that, he was very sorry and quickly got over his anger and took me out for a "last" goodbye lunch.
My theory to an uncomplicated relationship has always been to be myself come hell or high water because I am not clever enough to figure out what someone is thinking or going to do. I am always shocked that anyone would do or think other than want I expect of them.
I remember a college date asking me if I wanted onions on my hamburger. I remember thinking at the time: What kind of question is that? Of course, I want onions on my burger. Years, and I mean years later, it dawned on me that he was "planning" the kiss. I wasn't thinking that far in advance. If only he knew that God had already planned everything when it comes to relationships. If we were meant to kiss; let nature take it's course. Instead of trying to control what I was eating; if he just ate his onions; we would taste the same.
Who thinks of these rules? Life is hard enough without making up games that are not based on plain ole' honesty and human caring.
I think the reason people are not comfortable being themselves in new relationships is because everyone has different expectations and if two people are not in sync at the same moment with the same feelings for each other; it can be embarrassing or a major disappointment.
How about the guy I dated in college, maybe 3 times, who came back from Vietnam a year later. He showed up at my mother's house wanting to find me because he was ready to get married. If my mother had not told him that I was married, he probably would have found me. I have no clue who he was because my mother did not remember his name. No synchronization there.
No one can tell when that synchronization will happen. I think that is why people play games: it's all about manipulating the other person, if only to bring that person closer to them for the purpose of synchronizing a relationship. But as God planned; manipulating someone works against you.
No matter how many times I tried my hand at manipulating a situation, it always backfired. God's way of telling me that I am NOT in control of someone Else's Life.
It's a universal gamble when everyone is on their own time schedule for relationships to occur; it's very personal and individualized. There is no need to play games unless you want to be miserable for the rest of your life. Life adds enough misery in relationships as it is. If you were meant to be together; you will be synchronized some day with that person; if not today. It is already set in your DNA.
I always let those few men in my life know exactly how I felt at that moment. I was never one for a lack of embarrassing myself, from that other person's view point; and it never phased me, speaking honestly from my heart.
Being honest feels so much better than playing the game with men who are not in sync with me because the embarrassment is less painful than the dishonesty.
I am the only person I have control over and it is empowering.
I thought I would be honest.
It just came to me, while I was mulling over in my brain, how all these years of living, nothing has changed in the relationship between men and women. Maybe some things because of government laws, but not in the department of understanding the opposite sex.
I have heard repeatedly from young women that lots of men still like to play games when it comes to relationships; and so do some women. Does that ever change? No.
I think men and woman try to figure out what the other sex is thinking or what the other, is going to do using their own imaginary hypothesis to react to or plan a strategy; instead of just 'going with the flow."
I didn't realized how my husband was manipulating me until I was in a conversation with my daughter about one of her old boyfriends. I can't believe I fell for that manipulative cue. It was subconsciously acted and reacted for years. Like being brain dead. So I started retaliating by countering his remarks with, "You are making no sense. You are accusing me of something you do all the time."
This rut usually happens with married couples who subconsciously get in the habit of reacting to old cues they repeatedly received from their spouse. Although, there are many couples who know the game that is being played on; and by them; not in a malicious way; that like it because there is 'no guessing'; the roles are established, but Not so with new and young relationships.
Consciously and subconsciously the opposite sex will use whatever it takes to get what they want; thus the game. Sometimes they are not aware of using tactics; they are only aware that the response to that tactic works for them; until the other one catches on. Then the game is over and so is the relationship, sometimes.
A good example was the date I had with a fellow lieutenant in the Air Force. He decided playing his own game; all by himself. He did not call me for two weeks after one date. When he did call, only then was he honest. He said he was "teaching me a lesson" because on our first date he had gotten mad at me for accepting an invitation to sit with my friends at the club. He chose to go to the place where I always had lunch with my friends; but he wanted our own table. I didn't know it was an intimate date; considering the club is always a crowded rowdy place.
Then he asked me what I was doing now; as if nothing was wrong with his controlling behavior.
I told him that I got engaged while sitting around waiting for his call. With that, he was very sorry and quickly got over his anger and took me out for a "last" goodbye lunch.
My theory to an uncomplicated relationship has always been to be myself come hell or high water because I am not clever enough to figure out what someone is thinking or going to do. I am always shocked that anyone would do or think other than want I expect of them.
I remember a college date asking me if I wanted onions on my hamburger. I remember thinking at the time: What kind of question is that? Of course, I want onions on my burger. Years, and I mean years later, it dawned on me that he was "planning" the kiss. I wasn't thinking that far in advance. If only he knew that God had already planned everything when it comes to relationships. If we were meant to kiss; let nature take it's course. Instead of trying to control what I was eating; if he just ate his onions; we would taste the same.
Who thinks of these rules? Life is hard enough without making up games that are not based on plain ole' honesty and human caring.
I think the reason people are not comfortable being themselves in new relationships is because everyone has different expectations and if two people are not in sync at the same moment with the same feelings for each other; it can be embarrassing or a major disappointment.
How about the guy I dated in college, maybe 3 times, who came back from Vietnam a year later. He showed up at my mother's house wanting to find me because he was ready to get married. If my mother had not told him that I was married, he probably would have found me. I have no clue who he was because my mother did not remember his name. No synchronization there.
No one can tell when that synchronization will happen. I think that is why people play games: it's all about manipulating the other person, if only to bring that person closer to them for the purpose of synchronizing a relationship. But as God planned; manipulating someone works against you.
No matter how many times I tried my hand at manipulating a situation, it always backfired. God's way of telling me that I am NOT in control of someone Else's Life.
It's a universal gamble when everyone is on their own time schedule for relationships to occur; it's very personal and individualized. There is no need to play games unless you want to be miserable for the rest of your life. Life adds enough misery in relationships as it is. If you were meant to be together; you will be synchronized some day with that person; if not today. It is already set in your DNA.
I always let those few men in my life know exactly how I felt at that moment. I was never one for a lack of embarrassing myself, from that other person's view point; and it never phased me, speaking honestly from my heart.
Being honest feels so much better than playing the game with men who are not in sync with me because the embarrassment is less painful than the dishonesty.
I am the only person I have control over and it is empowering.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Kristine's First Week at Le Cordon Bleu
This is a piecemeal episode because I want to give a snapshot from where Kristine came to the present
without boring you to tears.
The night before class, she prepares her Condon Bleu uniform which has to be spotless with a necktie scarf tied to code. Her hair hidden under a white spotless cap. No jewelry or cologne.
She has to remember to take her electronic parking lot key, her culinary tools to name a few continuing mental exercises that she has methodically written down and gone over in her mind. She is completely focused on the tasks at hand. Doing her homework of reading and writing essays. Remembering to fill her car with gas before her long drive down the freeway for an hour or two, depending on traffic. She takes her medication 3 times a day.
She finished her first week of classes from 2 PM - 5:30 PM daily, successfully. She may have cut her finger slicing and dicing. She may have made her first slices too large, and felt discouraged when she could not make a swan out of an apple; but she expected to be perfect the first time around. No wonder she gets anxiety. I always encourage her to practice like everyone else has to do.
July 24, 2010, Kristine came home permanently from Gould Farm, Massachusetts http://www.gouldfarm.org/ so she could enter society as a functioning individual in a profession she desires. But it was at Appleton House, Belmont, MA http://www.mclean.harvard.edu/tour/hitech/appleton_more.html in May of 2007, where she received her first successful drug management care that got her where she is today at Condon Bleu Culinary school in Pasadena, CA.
When she first went to Appleton House, she was completely other worldly. Having suffered from professional drug mismanagement from 2003 until 2007, my husband found Appleton House, after reading about it in an introductory to a thriller novel. Dr. Irvin introduced a drug to Kristine called Clozapine because she was not responding well to other drugs.
The great thing about Clozapine is that it repairs the brain. It is unlikely that any abnormality in a single brain chemical, including dopamine, will explain all the features of a disorder as complex as schizophrenia. Many other neurotransmitters and networks of neurons are under active investigation.
My husband and I know it was the constant care and brilliant staff at Appleton that got her on her feet, Kristine won't admit it, because she was too sick at the time; although, she remembers the terrible things that happened before she entered Appleton; from a combination of prescription drugs from psychiatrists; that drove her to suicide; and that, sent her into numerous mental wards. Of course, most doctors would say it was her illness, not the drug, that drove her to suicide.
My own theory. They don't know. Observation is paramount in psychology and it was not until she was given the drugs that she wanted to kill herself; and it wasn't until, after, she was off those particular drugs that she no longer had that tendency. I am sure Tinker Bell with her magic dust would agree.
Although, I don't deny she is mentally ill with some disorder that the psychiatrists think is a schizo-affective disorder. We have been told that people suffering from schizophrenia symptoms who hear voices in their head, usually hear voices of gloom and doom; not friendly encouraging voices, like Kristine's. She hears voices that make her laugh or encourages her to think positive when she has anxiety. Maybe she is on a higher frequency with her guardian angels. I would like to think so.
When Kristine left home for Appleton, she was starting to gain weight from her 120 pounds to 220 lbs. I don't think it was the medication that made her gain weight. It was her mental illness of wanting some meat on her bones. She wanted to be curvy and not so thin.
A sign of her ever changing mind; she took one look at her new driver's license picture
and said, "I'm fat." From that time forward, she shopped for low fat and diet foods. She started drinking vegetable juices in the morning before class. She is very conscious of her appearance; whitening her teeth and maintaining good hygiene. A complete 180 turn around from her previous thoughts and feelings. I do believe her brain is repairing itself. I do believe Clozapine is a good drug for her.
Yes, I expect there will be times when she will be tempted to drink and have to begin again; but I know more now and I know where to go for the best support and Kristine does too. She has not reached that frustration of giving up because she loves what she is doing and that is learning to be a good chef.
November 2011, Kristine finally received her diploma which was mailed to her as she was in New York
City Interning for 3 months during her graduation in California. Congratulations, Kristine
without boring you to tears.
The night before class, she prepares her Condon Bleu uniform which has to be spotless with a necktie scarf tied to code. Her hair hidden under a white spotless cap. No jewelry or cologne.
She has to remember to take her electronic parking lot key, her culinary tools to name a few continuing mental exercises that she has methodically written down and gone over in her mind. She is completely focused on the tasks at hand. Doing her homework of reading and writing essays. Remembering to fill her car with gas before her long drive down the freeway for an hour or two, depending on traffic. She takes her medication 3 times a day.
She finished her first week of classes from 2 PM - 5:30 PM daily, successfully. She may have cut her finger slicing and dicing. She may have made her first slices too large, and felt discouraged when she could not make a swan out of an apple; but she expected to be perfect the first time around. No wonder she gets anxiety. I always encourage her to practice like everyone else has to do.
July 24, 2010, Kristine came home permanently from Gould Farm, Massachusetts http://www.gouldfarm.org/ so she could enter society as a functioning individual in a profession she desires. But it was at Appleton House, Belmont, MA http://www.mclean.harvard.edu/tour/hitech/appleton_more.html in May of 2007, where she received her first successful drug management care that got her where she is today at Condon Bleu Culinary school in Pasadena, CA.
When she first went to Appleton House, she was completely other worldly. Having suffered from professional drug mismanagement from 2003 until 2007, my husband found Appleton House, after reading about it in an introductory to a thriller novel. Dr. Irvin introduced a drug to Kristine called Clozapine because she was not responding well to other drugs.
The great thing about Clozapine is that it repairs the brain. It is unlikely that any abnormality in a single brain chemical, including dopamine, will explain all the features of a disorder as complex as schizophrenia. Many other neurotransmitters and networks of neurons are under active investigation.
My husband and I know it was the constant care and brilliant staff at Appleton that got her on her feet, Kristine won't admit it, because she was too sick at the time; although, she remembers the terrible things that happened before she entered Appleton; from a combination of prescription drugs from psychiatrists; that drove her to suicide; and that, sent her into numerous mental wards. Of course, most doctors would say it was her illness, not the drug, that drove her to suicide.
My own theory. They don't know. Observation is paramount in psychology and it was not until she was given the drugs that she wanted to kill herself; and it wasn't until, after, she was off those particular drugs that she no longer had that tendency. I am sure Tinker Bell with her magic dust would agree.
Although, I don't deny she is mentally ill with some disorder that the psychiatrists think is a schizo-affective disorder. We have been told that people suffering from schizophrenia symptoms who hear voices in their head, usually hear voices of gloom and doom; not friendly encouraging voices, like Kristine's. She hears voices that make her laugh or encourages her to think positive when she has anxiety. Maybe she is on a higher frequency with her guardian angels. I would like to think so.
When Kristine left home for Appleton, she was starting to gain weight from her 120 pounds to 220 lbs. I don't think it was the medication that made her gain weight. It was her mental illness of wanting some meat on her bones. She wanted to be curvy and not so thin.
A sign of her ever changing mind; she took one look at her new driver's license picture
and said, "I'm fat." From that time forward, she shopped for low fat and diet foods. She started drinking vegetable juices in the morning before class. She is very conscious of her appearance; whitening her teeth and maintaining good hygiene. A complete 180 turn around from her previous thoughts and feelings. I do believe her brain is repairing itself. I do believe Clozapine is a good drug for her.
November 2011, Kristine finally received her diploma which was mailed to her as she was in New York
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Way We Were
Who would have guessed? Not me. I actually went to my high school reunion after 43 years. My youngest daughter even commented that its one and a half times her age. Holy Smokes!
For years I avoided going back to my reunion for many reasons. The weather. The idea of being stranded without transportation. Are there any taxis or shuttles from the airport to the Inn, four miles away. One taxi. I read online that the temperature in Mississippi will be in the August 90's, but feels like 124 degrees with humidity.
Will I be a wall flower like I was in high school. Sitting on a chair watching everyone else socializing and dancing. I remember my prom year. I was so shy and stayed home all the time, singing and dancing alone in the living room, I did not accept any dates; although I know there were some boys who would have asked me out if I had given them a reason to ask. I never did.
My mother, being European, dressed me in a very short, flashy, black and white sequined dress made from large 'hounds tooth check' fabric. I looked very New Yorkish or Hollywood. I am sure all the boys who knew me were afraid to ask me to dance. I never gave them a reason to ask.
The one boy who asked me to dance; that is, the one dance I remembered, was a complete stranger. I was terrified. He was very tall and muscular with a Paul Bunyan shirt.
Country boy meets city girl. Except country boy could dance. I remember it like yesterday being drug around the dance floor. I remember thinking how sorry I felt for him having to dance with an ironing board. A fancy ironing board at that. I am sure he must have thought: Anyone wearing a dress like that has got to be wild. My mother was wild; wild to get me married off.
Oh, the good ole days.
I guess some of that good ole Southern hospitality does go a long way and stretches out 43 years. It was worth the 22 hours of flying time with delays between California and Mississippi for that one day of socializing with classmates in 2010. Yes, it takes a number of layovers to find Tupelo, Mississippi even if Elvis Presley was born there; and if Elvis wasn't shaking his hips, no one would have found him either.
I learned I had friends in high school. When my plane was delayed for 4 hours out of Atlanta, some classmates were waiting for 'the call' when I would land. I was the long lost classmate who apparently traveled the longest way. Although it was a breeze with my IPod, book and gift for gab; like one flight attendant mentioned to me and another passenger: passengers in the exit row always talk the most she finds; although she doesn't know me and I don't need an exit row to talk. I hung out with the woman who had a therapy guide dachshund; the woman who retired from Tupelo High; the contractor en route to Salt Lake City. It may not have been a non-stop flight, but it definitely was a non-stop 'talking' flight.
My facebook buddies were all there: Mike, the president of the class; organized the reunion and has managed to keep the ball rolling after 43 years by forcing himself to join facebook. Danny, choking me in class in front of the teacher, is immortalized in our yearbook which I had forgotten about. My dear friend, Brenda who was our school's drum majorette and from what I remember with my fuzzy memory, stood tall over me, reading big thick novels; appeared unchanged in familiarity. My brother who was in my class also, came with his loving wife. I vaguely remembered Sara until her personality came bubbling out all over the place. Who could forget Sara.
It was a family affair, as if time never passed among us as we slipped back into our youthful fondness for each other; but with a respect for each other that we had obviously acquired in our adult life while taking on the world. We had changed for the better, I thought, because we were now responsible members of society. We had successfully survived the hardships....up to this point.
Walking back into time was as easy as walking through an open door where there's a party going on with young souls in older bodies: Nothing you expect; beyond the innocence of youth and the wisdom of age, lies the "Reunion."
For years I avoided going back to my reunion for many reasons. The weather. The idea of being stranded without transportation. Are there any taxis or shuttles from the airport to the Inn, four miles away. One taxi. I read online that the temperature in Mississippi will be in the August 90's, but feels like 124 degrees with humidity.
Will I be a wall flower like I was in high school. Sitting on a chair watching everyone else socializing and dancing. I remember my prom year. I was so shy and stayed home all the time, singing and dancing alone in the living room, I did not accept any dates; although I know there were some boys who would have asked me out if I had given them a reason to ask. I never did.
My mother, being European, dressed me in a very short, flashy, black and white sequined dress made from large 'hounds tooth check' fabric. I looked very New Yorkish or Hollywood. I am sure all the boys who knew me were afraid to ask me to dance. I never gave them a reason to ask.
The one boy who asked me to dance; that is, the one dance I remembered, was a complete stranger. I was terrified. He was very tall and muscular with a Paul Bunyan shirt.
Country boy meets city girl. Except country boy could dance. I remember it like yesterday being drug around the dance floor. I remember thinking how sorry I felt for him having to dance with an ironing board. A fancy ironing board at that. I am sure he must have thought: Anyone wearing a dress like that has got to be wild. My mother was wild; wild to get me married off.
Oh, the good ole days.
I guess some of that good ole Southern hospitality does go a long way and stretches out 43 years. It was worth the 22 hours of flying time with delays between California and Mississippi for that one day of socializing with classmates in 2010. Yes, it takes a number of layovers to find Tupelo, Mississippi even if Elvis Presley was born there; and if Elvis wasn't shaking his hips, no one would have found him either.
I learned I had friends in high school. When my plane was delayed for 4 hours out of Atlanta, some classmates were waiting for 'the call' when I would land. I was the long lost classmate who apparently traveled the longest way. Although it was a breeze with my IPod, book and gift for gab; like one flight attendant mentioned to me and another passenger: passengers in the exit row always talk the most she finds; although she doesn't know me and I don't need an exit row to talk. I hung out with the woman who had a therapy guide dachshund; the woman who retired from Tupelo High; the contractor en route to Salt Lake City. It may not have been a non-stop flight, but it definitely was a non-stop 'talking' flight.
My facebook buddies were all there: Mike, the president of the class; organized the reunion and has managed to keep the ball rolling after 43 years by forcing himself to join facebook. Danny, choking me in class in front of the teacher, is immortalized in our yearbook which I had forgotten about. My dear friend, Brenda who was our school's drum majorette and from what I remember with my fuzzy memory, stood tall over me, reading big thick novels; appeared unchanged in familiarity. My brother who was in my class also, came with his loving wife. I vaguely remembered Sara until her personality came bubbling out all over the place. Who could forget Sara.
It was a family affair, as if time never passed among us as we slipped back into our youthful fondness for each other; but with a respect for each other that we had obviously acquired in our adult life while taking on the world. We had changed for the better, I thought, because we were now responsible members of society. We had successfully survived the hardships....up to this point.
Walking back into time was as easy as walking through an open door where there's a party going on with young souls in older bodies: Nothing you expect; beyond the innocence of youth and the wisdom of age, lies the "Reunion."
Finally, I got to dance all over the dance floor as if it were 1967.
THE WAY WE WERE
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
No Wonder There is "Uncertainty," When the Government Controls Everything. Who Knows What's in the Mind of a Control Freak.
The problem with a Weekly Market Commentary prediction is that it does not include or focus on the POLITICAL CLIMATE. It is not just about the Federal Reserve or the Interest rates. Clinton who was president in 1992 was not Obama, the socialist, who is trying to spread the wealth; therefore, depleting the wealth of the country.
We cannot just look at the Federal Reserve's balancing the interest rates back and forth as the markets will do that automatically, with or without the Federal Reserve. Supply and Demand has always provided the balance. We can't say "Oh, Look, the market went down and then it went back up again, in years passed, and it will do it again."
The question is: When will it bounce back. It's really a no brainer.
The question is: When will it bounce back. It's really a no brainer.
That time will come when Obama is no longer in power and all of his government regulations prohibiting private company growth are gone. I don't mean the ethical regulations governing out of control financial institutions. I mean the over reaching and under handed bureaucratic arm of the government in their desire to control every cent that every American can spend and on what they can buy. Big brother government standing on top of you with all of his weight.
What the financial weekly stock market commentary fails to address is the politics driving this economy. Obama is blindly and mindlessly letting Pelosi and Reid run amok. The market will never EVER get better if Congress and the White House doesn't Stop Spending.
In 1992, Clinton did completely the opposite of what Obama is doing now to the country. "Uncertainty" will not last if the government allows the economy to grow through capitalistic means by way of the private sector. Clinton did this.
What the financial weekly stock market commentary fails to address is the politics driving this economy. Obama is blindly and mindlessly letting Pelosi and Reid run amok. The market will never EVER get better if Congress and the White House doesn't Stop Spending.
In 1992, Clinton did completely the opposite of what Obama is doing now to the country. "Uncertainty" will not last if the government allows the economy to grow through capitalistic means by way of the private sector. Clinton did this.
But while Clinton was in office, The Federal Reserve regulated the housing financing crisis http://www.federalreserve.gov/pubs/frseries/frseri.htm.
The government had regulations in place to protect citizens from destructive financial practices; but the government changed the regulations to a more socialistic policy trying to give all Americans a way to buy a home, even when they financially could not qualify for the loan; thus the foreclosures we have today.
The government does not regulate itself and adds to the economic crisis; thus, the Tea Party
movement to regulate the government. Our country's 'checks and balances.'
Obama and his policies makers are preventing the private sector from growing by taxing them and using the monies to 1) buy union voters, so this government can stay in power; 2) increasing government and union jobs.
There will be no growth with tax increases on the private companies who need the money to hire workers. The workers who won't feed off the government; but who will put money back into the government and the economy.
Presently the ever increasing government and union workers are making twice the salary and pension of private sector workers. http://www.usatoday.com/money/economy/income/2010-08-10-1Afedpay10_ST_N.htm
Ditto Greece's problems.http://www.ocregister.com/articles/school-242056-teachers-capistrano.html Too many promises from the government to pay higher salaries and pensions until the tax dollar ran out. Unions feel they can get more money from an empty coffer by burning buildings and killing people....the wrong people.
THAT WORKS!
http://www.foxbusiness.com/markets/2010/06/29/greek-unions-strike-pension-labor-reforms/
Presently we have a government who is not cutting spending; we continue to be growing our debt.
Presently we have a government who is not cutting spending; we continue to be growing our debt.
No wonder there is "uncertainty" when the government controls everything. Who knows what's in the mind of a control freak.
The stock market will not grow under these political conditions and I don't care if the Federal Reserve Chairman tinkers around with the interest rate until the cows come home.
The Clinton Presidency: Historic Economic Growth http://clinton5.nara.gov/WH/Accomplishments/eightyears-03.html President Clinton’s Record on the Economy: In 1992, 10 million Americans were unemployed, the country faced record deficits, and poverty and welfare rolls were growing. Family incomes were losing ground to inflation and jobs were being created at the slowest rate since the Great Depression. Today, America enjoys what may be the strongest economy ever. In 1993, President Clinton and Vice President Gore launched their economic strategy: (1) establishing fiscal discipline, eliminating the budget deficit, keeping interest rates low, and spurring private-sector investment; (2) investing in people through education, training, science, and research; and (3) opening foreign markets so American workers can compete abroad. After eight years, the results of President Clinton’s economic leadership are clear. Record budget deficits have become record surpluses, 22 million new jobs have been created, unemployment and core inflation are at their lowest levels in more than 30 years, and America is in the midst of the longest economic expansion in our history.
The Clinton Presidency: Historic Economic Growth http://clinton5.nara.gov/WH/Accomplishments/eightyears-03.html President Clinton’s Record on the Economy: In 1992, 10 million Americans were unemployed, the country faced record deficits, and poverty and welfare rolls were growing. Family incomes were losing ground to inflation and jobs were being created at the slowest rate since the Great Depression. Today, America enjoys what may be the strongest economy ever. In 1993, President Clinton and Vice President Gore launched their economic strategy: (1) establishing fiscal discipline, eliminating the budget deficit, keeping interest rates low, and spurring private-sector investment; (2) investing in people through education, training, science, and research; and (3) opening foreign markets so American workers can compete abroad. After eight years, the results of President Clinton’s economic leadership are clear. Record budget deficits have become record surpluses, 22 million new jobs have been created, unemployment and core inflation are at their lowest levels in more than 30 years, and America is in the midst of the longest economic expansion in our history.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Food Shams and Whole Food?
I just got this video from my husband's sister and brother-in-law. Organic foods at Whole Foods are from China. http://www.elephantjournal.com/2010/02/whole-foods-365-organic-made-in-china-an-abc-expose/.
All I can say is that I don't shop at Whole foods because they are TOO expensive. The mega store that opened in Santa Ana, California has so much packaged 'junk' foods loaded with sugar and fat; I was surprised at how mega "unhealthy" the entire environment felt.
My first impression of Whole Foods back in 2003, when my oldest daughter introduced me to them in Los Angeles was of interest as it appeared to cater to people who wanted to live healthier. Although I found that some vegetables were not fresh; not like the ones at my local grocers who don't cater to a mass number of people parading through from other cities because they think they are getting the best quality for their money.
I knew the quality of service deteriorated before they even opened their new mega store in Santa Ana; when my husband ordered an organic turkey for Thanksgiving and Whole Foods never recorded it and they never accepted blame for not ordering it. They just ignored us, as if it never happened. My first thought was that they don't value their customers, so it should not come as a surprise that they think people are like sheep who will follow the organic signs without reading the labels. The labels on the back of the package.
Of course they show the USDA logo next to Made in China, as if the USDA controls what China sends us; like all those white lead painted toys China shipped to the USA last year.
Just today I noticed we bought some products with Canola Oil which I have been trying to eliminate in our diet. Why?
The Mayo Clinic's explanation is that it's healthy in spite of what you heard,
but.... it's NOT healthy enough for me.
... Misinformation about the safety of canola oil may stem from the fact that, years ago, oil was produced from the rapeseed plant. Rapeseed oil contains very high levels of erucic acid, a compound that in large amounts can be toxic to humans. The canola plant was developed by natural crossbreeding from the rapeseed plant. Canola oil is produced from canola plants, not rapeseed plants. Canola plants have very low levels of erucic acid. Canola oil is generally recognized as safe by the Food and Drug Administration. In fact, canola oil is very low in saturated fat and has a very high proportion of monounsaturated fat, so it's a healthy and safe choice when it comes to oils.
Generally meaning without regard to particulars or exceptions.
According to the Mayo Clinic and the FDA:
Healthy = lower levels of toxins (erucic acid)
If they crossbreed a toxic plant with a healthy plant, it's no longer considered toxic.
That's not what I hear from the medical profession when humans breed toxic DNA, generally speaking.
All I can say is that I don't shop at Whole foods because they are TOO expensive. The mega store that opened in Santa Ana, California has so much packaged 'junk' foods loaded with sugar and fat; I was surprised at how mega "unhealthy" the entire environment felt.
My first impression of Whole Foods back in 2003, when my oldest daughter introduced me to them in Los Angeles was of interest as it appeared to cater to people who wanted to live healthier. Although I found that some vegetables were not fresh; not like the ones at my local grocers who don't cater to a mass number of people parading through from other cities because they think they are getting the best quality for their money.
I knew the quality of service deteriorated before they even opened their new mega store in Santa Ana; when my husband ordered an organic turkey for Thanksgiving and Whole Foods never recorded it and they never accepted blame for not ordering it. They just ignored us, as if it never happened. My first thought was that they don't value their customers, so it should not come as a surprise that they think people are like sheep who will follow the organic signs without reading the labels. The labels on the back of the package.
Of course they show the USDA logo next to Made in China, as if the USDA controls what China sends us; like all those white lead painted toys China shipped to the USA last year.
Just today I noticed we bought some products with Canola Oil which I have been trying to eliminate in our diet. Why?
The Mayo Clinic's explanation is that it's healthy in spite of what you heard,
but.... it's NOT healthy enough for me.
... Misinformation about the safety of canola oil may stem from the fact that, years ago, oil was produced from the rapeseed plant. Rapeseed oil contains very high levels of erucic acid, a compound that in large amounts can be toxic to humans. The canola plant was developed by natural crossbreeding from the rapeseed plant. Canola oil is produced from canola plants, not rapeseed plants. Canola plants have very low levels of erucic acid. Canola oil is generally recognized as safe by the Food and Drug Administration. In fact, canola oil is very low in saturated fat and has a very high proportion of monounsaturated fat, so it's a healthy and safe choice when it comes to oils.
Generally meaning without regard to particulars or exceptions.
According to the Mayo Clinic and the FDA:
Healthy = lower levels of toxins (erucic acid)
If they crossbreed a toxic plant with a healthy plant, it's no longer considered toxic.
That's not what I hear from the medical profession when humans breed toxic DNA, generally speaking.
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