Category: Health

We’ll See

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

smallpox

My grandfather was a natural born storyteller. He had a tendency, however, to repeat the same tales again and again which didn’t actually bother us at all. He had a way of recounting the narratives that was fascinating. We each had our favorites from his repertory. I was spellbound by his account of helping his grandmother to amputate the crushed leg of a miner. I tried to imagine a world in which a twelve year old would have to do such a thing before the dawn of the twentieth century in an area so isolated that people had to take care of themselves for lack of a nearby doctor.

Grandpa also spoke of a time when he was a bit older during which his father and stepmother contracted smallpox. He became their caretaker and endured a forced quarantine that involved having an armed guard walk the perimeter of the property to ensure that nobody other than a doctor went in or came out of the house. My grandfather was a virtual prisoner while his folks struggled for their very lives. He says he never really thought about his own safety until the ordeal was finally over. In the meantime he was certain that his father was going to die. In fact he noted that it almost appeared as though his dad’s nose was going to fall from his face because he was so ravaged with the puss filled sores.

Grandpa’s two charges eventually beat the disease and the people of the town marveled that he never came down with the illness given how contagious it was. They began to treat him with a new regard as though he were some sort of super human. They hired him to travel around the county shooting stray dogs that they believed might be responsible for carrying the disease. While my grandfather was a bit squeamish about taking the lives of innocent critters he could not be certain that they were guilt free with regard to being carriers of smallpox and so he went on the hunt and put a bit of change in his pockets to boot.

Grandpa was as surprised as his neighbors that he never caught smallpox from his parents but he explained away the mystery by noting that he had always been rather immune to sickness. I suppose that his theory was somewhat proven by the fact that he lived to be one hundred eight years old and rarely even had a cold.

After he was gone I first heard about the 1918 Spanish flu pandemic that killed millions of people worldwide. I would have liked to ask him how he did during that viral outbreak. I’ve often wondered if he managed to escape illness even in the dire circumstances of that epidemic.

While I’d like to believe that I might have inherited some magic gene from him that will protect me from major contagions, experience has taught me that I generally fall to whatever illness is on the prowl. I had the mumps before I even started first grade and the chickenpox overtook me shortly after that. I caught the measles in the winter of 1958 when I was in the fourth grade and I do believe that I may have been the sickest of my lifetime then. I’d later develop a case of hepatitis that stuck with me for over three months. I literally worried that I had a chronic type because my body refused to shake the illness. Back in about 2009, I caught the swine flu which ended up being a real humdinger. My temperature lingered in the 103 degree range for several days and I felt a bit delirious at times. Still I have always managed to fight off diseases with no lasting effects. Maybe I’m not so much like my grandfather as like his father who appeared to reach the brink of death with smallpox but came miraculously back to life to live many more years.

My doctors tell me over and over again that I am a strong and healthy woman. They sometimes can’t believe how well I am doing given my age. I’ve got some brittle bones, an esophagus that likes to narrow, some arthritic knees, and a bit of elevated cholesterol but otherwise my heart is fabulous and I show signs of being someone who may live long enough to tell my own stories of life in the “old” days.

I have to admit to being concerned about the coronavirus. I’m attempting to prepare for a worst case scenario while also remaining optimistic that the worldwide medical community will somehow manage to keep its spread in check. I worry a bit about the fact that it appears to have the worst effect on older individuals which would include large numbers of my family and circle of friends. I also somewhat selfishly would hate to think that it might somehow interfere with my planned summer trip to Scotland. More importantly though is the pain and disruption that it might potentially inflict on so many people in the world. I really don’t want anything like the 1918 pandemic to ever happen again. I’ve read enough about it to understand how terrifying it must have been.

I take small comfort in my grandfather’s story of survival in a time when there were few alternatives to simply suffering through the impact of disease. Somehow we humans made it then and I have little doubt that we will do so again. In the meantime I’m setting aside lots of soap and disinfectants and prepping for whatever may come. Hopefully it will just be a normal summer with a trip to Scotland and Olympics in July. We’ll see.

Finding Joy In the Mundane

Published on by Sharron Burnett1 Comment

mundaneI suppose that we’ve all experienced that age old fantasy of just chucking it all one day and driving away into idealized oblivion. It’s a ridiculous dream of being totally free from any kind of responsibility, living as though there is no tomorrow. We sometimes experience a feeling of what such a lifestyle might be like when we go on a vacation trip and don’t have to cook a meal, make a bed, do laundry, report to work. We fantasize what a forever vacation might be like until we return home to bills that must be paid, appointments that must be met, work that must be done. We understand all too well that everyone has to grow up, leave Disneyland, and get back to work even as we plan the next getaway.

What if by some Twilight Zone miracle we really did find a way to rid ourselves of all those hated chores associated with daily routine and survival? What would we still agree to do every single day and what would we gladly jettison from our to do lists? Would we soon find ourselves miserable from boredom like Rod Serling characters who always seemed to belatedly realize that reality is generally better than imagined utopias?

There are things that I do with great regularity some of which I thoroughly enjoy and some which I loathe but do anyway. I mean who in their right mind likes folding and putting away clothes that have been cleaned by the lovely machines invented to lighten our loads? I have to remind myself that it wasn’t that long ago when my ancestors had few changes of clothing and cleaning the ones that they did own was a tedious job. If I tell myself that the basket of items fresh and warm from the dryer are actually representative of my good fortune, the irksome task of storing them neatly away becomes more palatable.

I don’t much care for doing dishes either, but I can count on one hand the number of times that I have gone to bed with dirty plates and pots and pans sitting in the sink. I’m obsessive about the idea of walking into a sparklingly clean kitchen when I arise each morning. I’m a bit of a grouch until I drink my morning tea and enjoy a spot of food so the thought of facing a mess before I’m even fully awake is unbearable to me. I will work until my kitchen is back in place even at the end of a big Christmas day celebration in spite of my profound dread of the project.

I know that exercising is good for me and I always feel invigorated after a good session of activity but I find the whole process to be utterly boring. I really do wish that there were some magic pill that I might take to replicate my efforts. I’ve tried teasing my mind into believing that it’s a relaxing time for reading or listening to music while I move and lift and bear weight but I’ve never been able to actually get enthusiastic about the process and I must admit to being guilty of using rather lame excuses to skip my very necessary self care whenever possible. 

Modern life is rather easy for most people in developed countries these days as compared to the past. We have machines that get us rather quickly from one place to another. We are able to listen to music anytime that we wish or communicate with people from afar. We accomplish our dreaded tasks with implements that our ancestors would have viewed as miraculous. Even ordinary folk live in better conditions than kings and queens of old and yet we  are prone to complain about the quality of our lives. I suppose that our human natures are easily dissatisfied and so like the fisherman and his wife we want to capture the magic fish that will make all of our dreams come true without any of the hard work. Like them I suspect that having the world on a silver platter is never quite as satisfying as accomplishing something through our own hard work.

I may dread getting sweaty from a brisk workout but I always feel quite good about myself when I’m done. I may hate pushing my brain beyond it’s parameters to learn something new but I swell with pride once I have mastered a difficult concept. We were made to push ourselves, to work hard, to have a purpose for rising from our beds each morning. Running away from our troubles or our routines is never the way to find nirvana. Even Wendy and her brothers realized that they had to return home to take up the tasks of becoming adults. Escape is a fantasy that brings happiness only for a limited time. Sooner or later we have to return to reality and it’s worth the effort to find ways to pleasantly accept the things that we know we must do.

I find myself being thankful all day long that I have the health to keep my home, my mind and my body in working order. Instead of feeling grumpy about my duties I think of how wonderful it is that I have incredible tools for accomplishing each task. With a little change of attitude I realize that I don’t need or want to run away from the things that I must do. I know that I am one very lucky person to live in a glorious place during an incredible time. The joy that I desire is actually found in doing all of those mundane routines that I have the ability to perform. I smile each time I think about how lucky I am. 

Finding Our True Roles

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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Shakespeare eloquently reminds us that all the world’s a stage and like members of an ensemble cast we each play many different roles in our lifetimes. The demands on us keep us busy and sometimes even a bit confused about who it is that we truly wish to be as we juggle schedules that sometimes force us to run from dawn to the last hours before we fall asleep. Setting priorities, enforcing limits, choosing what is most important can be more difficult than we might imagine as we encounter duties, demands and requests for our precious time. Balancing the needs of others with our own is often one of the most overwhelming tasks that we may encounter and so we often find ourselves hurrying through our days in a state of exhaustion dreaming of a time when we might take control of our schedules and lighten our loads.

People’s roles in life used to be a bit more rigidly delineated. The men went to work each day and the women stayed home taking care of the household and the children. Each person had carefully defined purposes that were decided more by accident of birth and societal norms than personal choice. Sadly the traditions never really worked for many who felt constrained by norms that overlooked individual desires and dreams, particularly with regard to the ladies. Over time the idea of allowing each person to determine his/her own purpose became more and more commonplace with the hope that in allowing increased freedom of expression we would generally be happier as a society, but it sometimes seems as though we have only created new barriers to finding the best life for each person.

Instead of encouraging one another to embrace themselves we have created expectations that all too often make daily life more difficult and less satisfying than ever. We have constructed artificial templates for success that can seem impossible to achieve. It’s now a “you can do it all and have it all” kind of world that leaves some wondering why things are not working for them. We see the so called icons of achievement advancing in careers, maintaining seemingly perfect families, working out regularly at gyms, cooking healthy gourmet meals, volunteering for various causes with boundless energy and we wonder why we can’t keep up with the pace of their enviable lives. Instead we are exhausted from trying so hard to meet the new standards and maybe even feeling as though we are failing at every turn. Little do we realize that the lives of the rich and successful are not always as wonderful as they seem. Keeping up an image of paradise is wrought with many obligations that may create more dissatisfaction than happiness.

Little wonder that Prince Harry and his beautiful wife, Meghan, have decided to eschew the so called fairytale life of a royal in search of something more meaningful. They have rather wisely determined that the only way to be masters of their own fate is to strike out on their own. They will of course learn that living to the beat of their own drum is riddled with its own complications, but having the courage to make their own choices is the start of a journey toward self satisfaction and happiness.

The reality is that no one person can or should do it all. We each have to decide how much we can actually handle before coming undone. That means that we will have to just say “no” now and again if we are to control the aspects of our lives that mean the most to us. The wise person is one who understands what he/she needs to do or not do to maintain a sense of purpose without becoming overwhelmed.

I know that I am happiest when I have an equal measure of time for myself and for others. I need quiet moments to contemplate and recharge but I also feel best when I have done something meaningful outside of myself. I’ve learned that I just have to be careful not to overdo either being alone or working into a frenzy. These days I’ve become more adept at listening to both my body and my mind for clues that I am taking on more than I should. Those pains in my hip or anxious moments of insomnia remind me that I have to let something go. Like Harry and Meghan I choose what roles I most want and need to perform.

My most basic human roles remain my most important and they all revolve around family and friends. I am first and foremost a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a cousin, a friend. My instinct is to drop everything else when someone who is a member of my circle is in need. Somehow no other task feels as important as helping a loved one. In that regard my role in life is as traditional as such things have always been. Nonetheless, when the situation permits I need to express my talents, my creativity. I find great joy in writing, in helping someone to learn, in being a kind of amateur counselor. I enjoy making the world that inhabit a bit more beautiful which means decorating, gardening, cooking. I must also feed my soul with reading and learning. Finally I push myself to keep my body in good condition, my least favorite role but one that is important for carrying out the other aspects of my life that bring me so much joy. When I feel overwhelmed I begin to shave away my obligations one at a time until I reach a comfortable feeling of stasis.

If I had one message for young people just beginning their journeys into adulthood it would be to understand that life is about the choices that we make. The important thing is to seek those roles that bring joy and happiness along with healthy bodies and minds. Learning how to strike a balance that allows us to weather difficult times is critical to our wellbeing, and only each individual truly knows what that must be. There are many acts in our lives that require us to play many roles, the best among them are the ones that reflect our true passions.    

Be Prepared

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

coronavirus

I haven’t done a weekend edition of my blog for quite some time, but I have become sufficiently concerned about all of the conflicting coverage of the Coronavirus to want to present a few of my ideas. I must begin by acknowledging that I am no expert in virology or any other form of medicine. I’m just an ordinary soul who does her best to stay healthy by maintaining certain routines in life. What worries me the most about the outbreak of this novel virus is that even the most accomplished doctors and scientists are still trying to sufficiently understand how it works and what it may do to people who encounter it. As with any uncertainty it would be foolhardy to act as though all is well and we should have no worries, but going to battle with disease is sometimes like going to war with a tyrant. We have to be ready for anything, even the unexpected.

During World War II Great Britain was on the brink of being overtaken by Nazi forces just as France and so many other countries on the European continent had been. Winston Churchill, who was indeed a very imperfect man, wisely counseled the people to “keep calm and carry on,” noting that they had “nothing to fear but fear itself.”

That did not mean that he gave the people a false sense of security. He was always quite honest about the threat that loomed over the country and he urged the populace to be prepared for any eventualities. In other words he had a realistic approach to leadership without creating panic, something that our President and our officials in Congress would do well to emulate with regard to the potential of a pandemic that may or may not threaten the citizens of the United States and the world. Politics should take a back seat to the needs of the people, which means that even if the republicans and democrats despise one another our elected leaders should be working together and supporting plans to react as needed if and when the occasion arises.

We keep hearing all sorts of conflicting information about the Coronavirus but the worst of the advice that is circulating is to be flippant about the disease. Now is the time to prepare just in case the worst fears actually materialize. Without panic, households across the country might consider stocking up on a couple of weeks of food and other necessary supplies. If nothing ever comes to pass, nothing will have been lost. Those items may be used in the normal fashion later on and everybody wins.

My pantry was looking a bit bare and I realized that if an isolation order ever became a reality I would be caught short and have to deal with empty shelves and a state of panic. Instead I added a few things to my shopping cart this week and stored them away for whatever will be. It’s not that I am worried that I will catch the virus and die, it’s simply that I don’t want to be caught in an untenable situation. I bit of caution never hurts.

This week there has been a break in a huge water main in Houston that has affected schools and offices across the city. Everyone is being asked to boil their water. All of this was totally unexpected and most people will be able to cope for a few days, but if for some reason the situation lasted a bit longer I suspect that a state of fear might overtake our city. We can’t always be ready for a situation that suddenly changes things, but when we know that there may be a possibility of something happening, regardless of how remote, it makes sense to be prepared.

I would be far more relaxed about the situation if our various leaders were working together in the spirit of focusing on the needs of the people, but that appears to be a pipe dream. They will no doubt use this occasion to tear down one another for political gain. While they fight over who is best, we can take the lead in our own communities by preparing for any possible scenario and then going about our daily routines with the hope that we will never need the provisions we have made. It’s a shame that our leaders are not showing the way by example but they have gone into their own little world of mortal combat with one another that will one day have to end if our nation is the adequately survive.

There are brilliant minds doing their best to get a handle on how the Coronavirus will ultimately affect humanity. I have every confidence that among them someone will find the answers that we need. For the time being I will be neither too complacent nor too terrified. Instead I will be ready to react as needed. I’ve bought lots of soap to wash my hands and anti-virus cleaning sprays to clean my countertops. I’m also praying for those who have already been affected. They are the unfortunate souls whose experiences with the illness will help to find ways of combating it with the rest of us. My God and the brave caretakers of medicine be with them.

Stay calm, wash your hands, be prepared and don’t give in to fear. Pray that the brilliant among us will figure things out and that our leaders will ultimately understand that this should not be a political football. “Donald and Nancy, we’d like for you to set aside your differences and work for the good of all of us.” That is what will make us feel a whole lot better. Until that happens we will just be prepared.

Where Did I Put Those Glasses?

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

glassesI am still able to pass my driver’s test without the aid of glasses. When I drive I have no difficulty reading the signs and keeping an eye out for problems on the road. When it comes to reading however I’m as blind as a bat. Without the aid of magnification I’m as blind as a bat. Everything on a written page literally looks like a barcode making me think of that poor fellow in an episode of The Twilight Zone who after becoming the last human on earth consoles himself with the thought that he will just read all of the books in the library until his own demise. He’s actually looking forward to living alone and having unfettered time to enjoy his favorite hobby of reading. He gathers a stack of volumes with the intent of settling down with the company of good stories when he drops his glasses and hears them shatter. The look on his face when he realizes that his situation is hopeless has stayed in my mind since I first saw that heartbreaking story.

Back then my eyes were like those of a hawk. I had no trouble with eyesight and never considered that I might one day require some kind of assistance just to be able to read a label. I first noticed difficulty discerning letters on a page when I was in my forties studying for my masters degree, In between the reading for my job and the additional load for my classes my eyes were in a constant state of fatigue. Before long I realized that I was continually squinting and holding things as far away as my arms were able to reach just to make out the print. I knew I needed to submit to seeing a doctor to find out what was happening.

I wasn’t surprised at all to learn that I had become farsighted. The doctor prescribed the lenses that I would need and I purchased a rather expensive pair of glasses that made all of my problems disappear. Unfortunately I had to remove my eyewear for all of my regular activities save for reading, so I was continually misplacing them. Not having grown up with poor eyesight made it challenging to remember to keep my glasses at hand. Eventually I lost them somewhere and given what I had spent on them I was reluctant to rush out to replace them. Instead I tried on some reading glasses at the drug store until I found a pair that made everything clear again.

I’ve never spent more than twenty dollars on my lenses but I’ve learned from experience that I can’t be foolish enough to depend on a single pair. I’ve noted that they often have a tendency to break so I carry a little repair kit, but my biggest problem is leaving them somewhere and not knowing where it was that I set them down. Now I have additional pairs of glasses stashed everywhere in case of an emergency. I’m not about to be like that poor man who for all intents and purposes became blind because his source of eyesight was destroyed.

I’ve tried a number of remedies for keeping track of those devilish pairs of eyewear that seem intent on hiding from me. I’ve tried to wear them on a chain or a leather tether around my neck but they get in the way and detract from the overall look of my fashion. Besides I suppose that they think they make me look like an old lady as if nobody would otherwise notice that I am seventy one years old. “Vanity thy name is Sharron.”

I once purchased a cute little pin that allowed me to wear my glasses on my lapel whenever they weren’t on my face. That system didn’t look half bad but the critters somehow fell off without my noticing and left me in a real pickle when I needed them. I’ve found the best defense is to always have an heir and a spare at hand so most of the time I have glasses strategically posted in various rooms of the house, in my purse, inside my car and even in our travel trailer. I won’t go on a long trip without having extra pairs just in case. In spite of my best efforts I somehow I still find myself seeking a store where I might replace the ones that have somehow escaped from me. I usually end up paying far more for the new glasses than I would otherwise do because I am desperate and can’t actually see what they cost before I buy them.

I suppose that the day will eventually come when I will need to wear bifocals or some such thing. Then I will have to keep up with my eyewear all of the time. I’m hoping that having to wear them during all of my waking hours will do the trick but I worry that I won’t be as vigilant as my husband who gets by with his single pair of glasses with no trouble whatsoever. When I think of how often I misplace my phone I feel certain that I will somehow find a way to lose even a pair of glasses that I am supposed to wear all day long.

Wrinkles on my skin and aches in my knees are just a couple of reminders that I am growing old. So far I’ve been able to push back on becoming less and less energetic but my eyes remind me that time will take its toll in spite of my denial. Of late I’ve had to wear my glasses when cleaning so that I don’t miss dirt and grime that fades away without benefit of magnification. I worry about becoming like my grandmother who shortly before her death no longer noticed that her milk had curdled or that a foreign object was in her food.

Pride goeth before the fall. I suppose it’s time to make regular appointments with an ophthalmologist and maybe even purchase some bonafide glasses with a spare to be certain that I never lose the remarkable gift of sight. For now though I’m doing quite well with the cheap pairs that have become regular features wherever I go. For the time being I’m trying to remember where I put the brand new ones that I recently purchased. I suppose I should go look for them.