Month: September 2025

I once considered becoming a doctor but decided not to follow that road for multiple reasons. I became a teacher instead and so I don’t dispense medical advice to people other than in generalities. I mostly tell individuals to find a doctor with outstanding credentials who is respected among his or her peers. While a well meaning person sometimes provides me with ideas of how to treat this or that ailment I usually find that asking my primary care physician what measures to take leads to far better outcomes than if I google my symptoms and attempt to self diagnose what is going on with me. 

I worked during the summer for a doctor many moons ago when I was still in high school. I vividly remember the time that he called me into his office and counseled me to call a physician before getting myself upset by any scary pains I might one day feel. Above all he insisted that I never simply rely on the uneducated advice of a neighbor or friend or relative to treat myself. He told me that people quite often assume that they know exactly what a sick person needs to feel better but that deciding on a plan for care is complex and requires lots of critical tests to determine a true diagnosis. 

I remembered his wise words over the years even as I sometimes attempted to resist the impulse to call a doctor thinking that if I just waited a bit things might resolve themselves. Once that led me to walking around with hepatitis risking the health of others that I encountered. It was actually my good neighbor who literally insisted that either I call my doctor or she would do so. I ended up being far sicker than I imagined and it would be three months before my ordeal was finally resolved because I had waited so long. 

I’ve sadly done that in other instances as well like thinking that I might end the pain in my knees with exercises found on the Internet. Not until I was feeling like a cripple did I contact an orthopedic specialist who lessened the paint with shots and then directed me to physical therapy. The results have been so positive that I no longer worry that I will forever doomed to a wheelchair. 

I mention these things not because I do not believe in the advice that doctors give me, but because I sometimes think that my complaints are too minor to bother them. That’s when I listen to the old wive’s tails that generally never work. By the time I get to a doctor’s office I am worse off than I needed to be. 

I suppose that many are like me but I have watched my father-in-law stay unbelievably healthy by following the advice of doctors to the letter. His entire daily routine is determined by the instructions that his many doctors have given him. He never varies, never falters and never allows any change in the way he is feeling to fester until it gets worse. He alerts his doctors immediately and they have literally saved him from death multiple times because of his diligence. At the age of ninety six he is in better shape than many of my younger friends.

I have thought about all of this when I listen to the fantastical medical thinking of Robert F. Kennedy Jr. who has been tapped to be a leader in assuring the health of the people of the United States. What bothers me is that he only has ideas, no training in medicine or science, no degrees in those areas. He simply has done what he calls a great deal of reading and talking to people with alternative ideas that he believes should radically change the general practices of medicine in our nation. In other words he is little better than the neighbor who thinks she knows better that my doctors or the Internet advice that I use without actually knowing the exact problem with which I am dealing. Those of us who rely on folk remedies are fools.

Kennedy is well known for his debunked theories about vaccines including the erroneous idea that they are causing autism in young children. He does not believe in germ theory but harbors a long deserted idea that good health can be had by anyone who eats properly and exercises regularly, ignoring the reality that sometimes even the healthiest among uus contract diseases that cannot be treated by lifestyle alone. 

One area where Kennedy and I totally disagree involves the treatment of mental illness. He seems to think that the mentally ill should be sent away to farms where their minds will be calmed by doing the manual labor of growing fresh vegetables and fruits. He insists that such programs will heal them more quickly than administering medications. He is unwilling to take into account the fact that many people like my mother are able to lead relatively normal lives with properly supervised medicines. I have seen the miracle of such things with her and I doubt that she would have been able to work full time until she reached retirement age without them. I know for certain that she would have felt betrayed if we had sent her away to a farm. 

Kennedy is not willing to admit that many people died of Covid because they chose not to accept the vaccines that became available. He does not seem to understand that no doctor ever said that the vaccines would prevent Covid but that they would better protect the individual if they came down with the virus. As it happened there were some people who did not make it in spite of being vaccinated but that sort of thing happens with many different types of treatments for everything from cancer to heart disease. There will always be humans who do not react the same as the majority when it comes to medications or treatments. Sometimes people die in spite of the efforts of the doctors who treat them. My brother for example has a compromised immune system and tests showed that the vaccines did not create immunity in him the way they did for me.

We have some of the finest doctors and scientists in the world in this country. One of them should be in charge of the nation’s health, not a hack who peddles misinformation. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is a danger to us all and Congress should impeach him and refuse to vote for anyone to replace him who peddles dangerous theories. We can and should do better than that for the sake of us all but most especially for our children. 

As I write this we are knee deep in planning for a big trip to celebrate my husband Mikes’ successful radiation treatments for his prostate cancer. Five weeks of tests and preparations led to eight weeks of radiation therapy five days each week. It was exciting for both of us when he rang the bell at the beginning of August. It had been a long journey to that moment that even included cataract surgery for me. When all seemed to be going well Mike announced that he wanted to return to London, his favorite city on the planet. I was more than eager to fulfill his wishes, so we got busy purchasing flights, reserving hotels and booking times at all kinds of interesting places. Our tour will include side trips to Edinburgh, Scotland and Paris, France as well as day trips to Greenwich, Richmond and Windsor. We will be on our way on September 28, God willing and if the creek don’t rise.

The truth is that so many things might go wrong. We have reserved respite care for Mike’s father at a wonderful place in the Heights of Houston but he could become seriously ill and the whole plan would collapse. For that matter at our ages Mike or I have the potential to become unable to travel, not to mention that Houston is well known for torrential downpours that flood the city and shut everything down. With a bit of good luck none of that will happen and we will be a couple of giddy seniors enjoying our first venture over the pond in six years. We were scheduled for Scotland in 2020 but we all know how Covid ended all of those kind of dreams. We’ve been waiting patiently for a moment that seemed rather elusive until now so our fingers and toes are crossed. 

There is so much in London that we have not yet seen. Big Ben was almost invisible with scaffolding when we were last there. We never had time to visit Parliament or to have a proper tea time at Fortnum and Mason. I’ll be living a dream when we see Phantom of the Opera in the West End theater district where it premiered fifty years ago. If we can fit it in, we might to go see The Mousetrap as well which holds the record for the longest continuous run of over seventy years. Hopefully we might additionally catch an Eventide service at Westminster Abbey. 

I’m particularly excited about going to Scotland. I have many ancestors from there and I’ve actually had a person or two ask me if I am Scottish. There will be more to do in Edinburgh than we will have the time to explore, but we have set aside an entire day for the castle and it’s surrounding area. A little shopping along the Royal Mile sounds enticing and hopefully we will get that Harry Potter feeling in the quaint shops and pubs. I won’t be satisfied unless we hear a bagpiper or two. I have a feeling that I won’t want to leave but Paris will be calling.

We plan to arise early one morning when we are back in London and ride the high speed train that will get us to Paris in two and a half hours. My number one request is to see the rebuilt Notre Dame Cathedral. I have yearned to see it for most of my life and especially so since the fire. Of course Mike and I will walk along the Seine River and we already have reservations for the Louvres. I suppose we will at least go look at the Eiffel Tower and maybe the gardens at Versailles but I would prefer munching goodies in the bakeries and wandering along interesting streets. 

We chose visiting Richmond for a rather silly reason simply because it was the site of one of our favorite television series, Ted Lasso. Aside from that there is much to do there. The town has a long history that includes the time of Henry VIII. They also boast a beautiful botanical garden that I don’t intend to miss. It will be a nice way to see a part of England that is interesting and only twenty seven minutes aways from London by train. 

We may visit the home of Charles Dickens or the Sherlock Holmes museum. I’m a huge fan of Dickens’ novels and the mysteries of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. From what I surmise they will be short diversions that may be lots of fun. If time permits I am always game for visiting the Churchill War Rooms one more time. There is so much there that I’m certain I missed a great deal the last time I visited. I also want to spend some time at the markets and chilling out at a pub sipping on a bottle of cider. I’m a one drink wonder so there is no worry that I’ll overdo. I want to walk along the Thames or visit Saville Row and find the building where the Beatles had their last performance on the roof. 

So wish us luck. I am hopeful that we will be able to pull this off without a hitch this time. I’ve learned to plan well but be ready for the unexpected. Somehow that seems to be a big part of life when you reach my age. Watch for pictures and stories if I make it. 

The events of last week have left me in a state of sadness that feels incredibly oppressive. I was not a follower of Charlie Kirk. In fact I knew little about him. I had listened to a few of his speeches and appreciated his charisma and dedication to his beliefs, but I found some of his ideas to be the opposite of my own. Still, I am a believer in our first amendment rights of free speech even as I know that some of what he said was so different from what I believe to be true. He had the same right to speak his mind as I do to write my blogs. When he was killed it felt terribly frightening to me. I thought of the horror of it for his wife and children and in a sense relived the death of my father who died so suddenly and unexpectedly at an age similar to Charlie Kirk. 

My worries about the continuous stream of violence in our nation were made even more dire when there was a rush to judgement regarding who had done the horrific deed. From the very start supporters of Kirk felt certain that monstrous left wing influences had led to the assassination. Even our president said that he was going to find the people and the groups who had done this and hold them accountable. Lots of folks were accusing the left of being monsters intent on destroying our democracy. The airwaves were filled with anger at a perpetrator that they only imagined before any form of proof was forthcoming. Some even insinuated that the shooter must have been the work of a transgender individual because one of the bullets contained a cryptic inscription of arrows facing different ways that appeared to be a code for changing sexes. 

It took time before the shooter was identified. It was the young man’s family who convinced Tyler Robinson to surrender himself and when he finally did all of the stories that a professional shooter from the far left had engineered the hit began to fall apart. Tyler Robinson is a twenty two year old white male who is a resident of Utah. His father is a retired sheriff and his mother works with disabled people. Tyler’s grandmother said that the family has been supportive of Donald Trump and MAGA although the shooter himself had registered as an independent and never voted in any election. 

The story became more and more tragic as we learned more details. Tyler had been an excellent student in high school taking advanced placement classes, getting good grades and earning a large scholarship to college. Those who knew him in high school said that he was shy but that most people liked him and sometimes he seemed like a favorite of the teachers.  

Instead of toning down the wild accusations that a hateful and violent left winger had been been the shooter much of the media still insisted that the young man had somehow become a rogue leftist without any real evidence to support such a thing. The only facts that they should have considered were that after only one semester of college Tyler had dropped out. They were able to report that at the present time he was living in an apartment only a few miles from his parents and was studying to become an electrician. Some of his high school friends mentioned that they had lost contact with Tyler. Gamers recognized him and reported that he was an active gamer who belonged to certain groups who competed with one another playing various video games. Some noted that they communicated with Tyler and he with them as well. 

Some of the gamers began to give meaning to the cryptic messages that the shooter had inscribed on the bullets. They insisted that authorities were going down the wrong path in insisting that they be taken literally. They pointed out that the series of arrows of one of bullets was the sequence on the Helldivers 2 game that designated the order of moves on the controller for dropping a bomb.

Evidently Tyler was not forthcoming even after being arrested but his roommate said that he and Tyler had become romantically involved with each other. Tyler had also told the roommate where to find the gun and had admitted that he had done the deed. There are even some reports that the roommate is transitioning to a female but there is still much to be explained to determine the motive of the young man who pulled the trigger.

I have always felt that there are definite signs when an individual is traveling down a black hole that is leading to violence. In the case of Tyler Robinson it sounds as though there were indeed indications that nobody seemed to see. He was after all a seemingly good boy but behind his facade chaos was brewing. Perhaps the fact of his leaving college so soon might have been the first moment to realize that something might be wrong. Maybe his excessive devotion to gaming while withdrawing more and more from society should have been a warning that he needed some kind of intervention. It’s difficult to influence an adult who is living on his own but his very slow progress toward a career should have been a reason to talk more with him, find out more about what he was doing, get him out of his isolation. Finally those gamers who were witnessing his decent might have told someone before the worst possible thing had happened. I suppose that they felt that Tyler was just going through a phase and telling someone would have been a betrayal. Still, we have to start caring for each other enough to do difficult things to help them when they appear to be foundering. I know how hard that is because I had to intervene with my mother over and over again because of her bipolar disorder. In the end it is worth every effort. 

My heart is still heavy. I don’t know if anything or anyone might have stopped the trajectory of the Tyler Robinson’s life but I suppose that many of us will always wonder about the “what ifs.” So many lives are shattered. So many people will never be the same. Hopefully we learn from this and quit the quibbling and shouting at each other. There are people among us who are vile and there are people among us who are hurting. We would do well to focus on using facts to find both of them before another tragedy unfolds. We do no good when we jump to conclusions before we have studied every single one of the facts. I suspect that we will learn much more when Tyler eventually is tried for his heinous crime. We might to well to wait to hear everything before pointing fingers and turning against certain groups.  

The earth has music for those who listen.

My favorite time of day is in the early morning before the sun rises and the only sounds are the wind or perhaps the pattering of rain on the roof. Now and then the doves who live on our back porch come to life and coo a good morning to the world. As the sun shows its glory on the horizon, lights begin to shine in the windows of my neighbors and an occasional dog that has been sent outside barks to announce his dominion over the neighborhood. 

Before long I hear the doors opening and the loving goodbyes of family members scurrying about to get to work or school or appointments. Car engines start and the drivers head to their daily destinations. Soon children gather on the corner, quiet at first, speaking only in whispers. As more and more of them arrive the chattiness intensifies into excited greetings and rounds of laughter. The school bus announces its arrival around the corner with the squealing of breaks and there is a hubbub of voices as the children scurry inside. Then there is silence again and I feel ready to begin the chores of the day that lie ahead.

There is a lovely pattern of our earth’s rotation that brings different sounds at different times and different places. All of it is music to my ears where even silence has its place. I relax hearing the cadence of my own breathing in and out. I think of how remarkable our human bodies are and how brilliantly the creation of ordinary routines have evolved and moved us forward in our thinking and our behavior toward one another. The sounds of both our sameness and our uniqueness are spiritual evidence of the goodness that comes from working together and honoring each contribution that we humans make to the world. 

We are presently in a period of carping with one another artificially created by politicians who are using our differences and concerns to enrich their own power and sometimes even their wealth. They have made us dissatisfied with each other, even fearful of each other when the truth is that most of the time we are all more alike than we are different no matter from where we have arrived. 

The street on which I live is a microcosm of the United States. We have neighbors whose origins and races are derived from every sort of place and belief. We are a tiny joining of nations, languages, personal points of view and yet we all go to work, send our children to school to learn, do our best to love and care for one another. Some of us are quite traditional white folks who regularly go to church, others are unique and even daring in the life choices they have made. All will come to the aid of others when needs arise. We have ignored the kind of artificial divisions that are fueling so much disdain for those not exactly like ourselves and living in a beautiful state of harmony. We happily and pointedly allow each other to live and let live. Our street is as close to utopia as one might ever experience.

When I leave my street either by way of tuning into the news or driving to another place I learn of the divisions that are being forced on us. I hear friends feeling concerned that they have to be afraid of what they say in their work. I can’t imagine feeling so inhibited in what I do or say. I thought that we left such horrific behavior behind in the years beyond the nineteen sixties when people were still judged by the color of their skin, the places from which they hailed, the languages they spoke, the religious beliefs they held, the decisions regarding their personal sexuality that they had made. We had seemed to be evolving into a kind and gentle nation in which every human was celebrated for his or her or their uniqueness. I loved being part of that kind of country. I felt proud of my fellow citizens but in this moment I hear the sounds of fear and sometimes hate much too often. It makes me want to retreat to my lovely cul-de-sac and hide until this horrific phase of our history is over. 

I know that running to my comfort zone is wrong. I cannot sit back in my own nirvana simply hoping that the horrors beyond my street will go away. If I do that it will only be a matter of time before they seep into the loveliness that I enjoy. I have to speak out now while I still have the ever narrowing freedom to do so and while my country is still mostly intact. The sound of my words and actions much be heard. It is up to me and all of the good people that I know to protect the people of our nation from the poisonous ideas that are sending us back to a time that I do not wish to see again. 

Thus I will do my part as must we all. I will voice my concerns. I will vote for those willing to fight to set things right. I will protest and resist when I see wrong doing. If millions of us add the sounds of our consciences together they will become as beautiful as the music of the earth and the whole world will surely listen.  

Love yourself because you are the only one guaranteed to be with you forever. — Unknown

I saw this quote and smiled at how true it is. We are born into a family. We go to school. We make friends. We may find a spouse to help us build a new family. Maybe we have children. As time goes by and we get older and older many of the people who were so important to us leave this earth. If we live long enough we may find ourselves becoming more and more alone. If we don’t really like ourselves that can make us feel quite unloved. 

My grandfather lived to the age of one hundred eight as many of my devoted readers already know. His parents, wife, and all of his children had died. Many of his older grandchildren had died, Friends from his youth and time working had died. He was left with an ever tinier circle of people who knew and loved him. Fortunately he was an optimistic and happy soul who felt that he had lived a very full life. He was confident that in spite of the many mistakes he had made he had been a mostly good person on balance. He liked himself and it showed.

He did not brag about his accomplishments or his intellect or even his good health. What was important to him was being someone who made a contribution to the world with his carpentry and the care he gave to family and friends. He had built state capital buildings and monuments to historic events. He had done his best to be a good husband and father and grandfather and friend. He kept his mind busy with learning for all of his many years. He was a calming force and a phenomenal teller of stories. He cultivated his personality and his talents and he felt good about how things had turned out. He did not boast about himself even as others found him to be remarkable. He outlived the people who had been most important in his life. Thankfully being content with himself made the many extra years that he lived more pleasurable. 

My father-in-law is ninety six years old. He is a gregarious soul as proven by the stories that he tells of his life. He liked to party and celebrate. He was always doing something with coworkers and friends. He liked to play bridge and golf mostly for the camaraderie. After his first wife died he rather quickly found a new woman to love. He created joy in embracing her children and grandchildren as his own. It would seem that he was rarely alone throughout most of his life, but for the past many years the number of his friends and relatives has constricted. Because he has only one son who is getting old himself he understands that he might outlive even his child just as he has so many others who once brought so much joy to him. He has had to learn to be content with himself.

We never know how many years we will have. Some die very young like my father who left this earth at the age of thirty three. Some die suddenly and without warning. Others seem to become immortal as year after year passes and they remain on this earth. It’s important that we be just as kind and loving to ourselves as we are with others but for some people that is somewhat difficult.

Nobody better knows our flaws, our weaknesses, our mistakes than ourselves. Dwelling on those things is toxic and just as bad as being a narcissist who is unable to realize his/her shortcomings. it’s easy to get down in the dumps and become self critical if we are not careful. It’s a natural tendency to be our own worst critics. 

I remember a time when I felt too skinny, too shy, too “un” this or that. My mother counseled me to just get out there with the people that I encountered and quit dwelling on my shortcomings. She insisted that few people would notice them because we are all walking around downgrading ourselves. I learned soon enough that she was mostly right. Sure, there were jerks who seemed to find joy in putting others down but most of the time people responded to a greeting, a smile, an offer of friendship without noting my superficial characteristics and imperfections. Everyone is looking for acceptance and a person who has learned to love himself or herself is usually so busy making other feel comfortable that the very idea of self hate is anathema. 

We all get down in the dumps. We all question ourselves. Those things happen to everyone. We have to be careful about nursing such feelings. It works out better to understand that each of us is unique and of great value. When we believe in ourselves our lives will be full no matter how short or how long they last.