Solving the World's Problems?

I find it frustrating that most politicians, along with the mainstream media and every other source I can find, seem to think that there can only be one solution to each of our problems. None of them seem to believe in compromise or—perhaps more importantly—attacking problems from many directions. I mean, really, does anyone honestly believe that taking one big step is going to solve a problem? A much easier, more workable, and ultimately effective plan will be to take many smaller steps. I’m going to use the two highest-profile issues as examples here, but I welcome comments suggesting other issues that need to be addressed, as well as other solutions to these two problems that I haven't discussed.

First, let's take healthcare. I watch newspapers and politicians lament the state of our healthcare system, then propose a single solution that, they say, is the only way to solve the problem. “Tort reform to lower malpractice limits!” says one. “Higher taxes!” says another. “Encourage innovation and competition!” says a third. We need to look at multiple strategies to fix a problem as big and complicated as this is. We need all of the means listed above, plus tactics like encouraging preventive medicine to reduce the need for more drastic healthcare. This, of course, means making it easier for people to do healthy things like exercise and eat vegetables. Some of it is education; some of it is accessibility. If a pound of apples costs $2 and a box of Twinkies costs $1, it’s very easy to look at the short-term cost and buy the Twinkies. What it’s hard to know is the long-term cost of eating the junk food instead of the healthy option. Likewise, it makes much more sense to drive to work than walk or bike. After all, traffic might be too heavy to ride a bike safely, and most of us work too far from home to do anything but drive. What we don’t see is the cost of a sedentary life where we drive everywhere, spend 8 hours each day sitting at a desk, then spend another few hours sitting on a sofa. If the apples were cheaper than the Twinkies, it wouldn’t be hard to decide for the healthier option. If there were a reasonable way to safely bike or walk to work, we’d be happy to leave the car at home. I don’t know how to make apples less expensive or biking/walking more realistic, but I know it’s possible. More to the point, I know it's necessary. Many places in Europe, for example, rely on feet and bicycles as the first choice in transportation, and cars only as a distant second. When I lived in Germany a few years ago, I rode a bike several miles to work each day. I didn’t have a car, so if I wanted to go farther than around town, I rode my bike to the train station. It was simply the way of life, and it was accepted. This brings me to my next example: the environment. If we can take steps like helping people to use their cars less to improve health, that will certainly have a positive impact on the environment.

There is no doubt that humans have an influence on the environment, and that, quite often, we don’t take good care of our planet. But it seems to me every information source I can find focuses exclusively on climate change and emissions control. I believe that reducing the amount of carbon dioxide, methane, and all those other greenhouse gasses is important. We can do that in plenty of ways: lower-emissions cars, lower-emissions fuels, increased availability of public transportation, increased ease & access to walking & biking instead of driving, etc. But we forget that there are many additional steps we should be taking to stem the tide, and hopefully prevent our grandchildren from having to clean up our mess. Things like: planting trees, reducing deforestation, painting roads a lighter color (an off-the-wall solution I read about somewhere that made surprising sense once I stopped to think about it) so they reflect the sun’s heat instead of absorbing it. In general, I think we need to be less consumer-ish and wasteful. Also, there are plenty of other environmental issues we need to deal with. What about land and water pollution? Over-use of resources? I believe it ultimately comes down to changing the way we think and behave. Instead of trying to change the world to suit our needs, we should change ourselves to suit what’s available. I think that we need to make recycled products more available and affordable, make recycling easier, cheaper, and more accessible. I think we need to use less of everything. This will probably be difficult in the short run, since changing habits is hard, but in the long run, it’s the best thing we could do for our selves, our children, and our planet.

I realize that there are major obstacles to solving huge problems like healthcare and problems with the environment, but we can’t ignore the need for solutions. The solutions may make our lives temporarily more difficult (it is easier, after all, to use disposables and drive everywhere), but in the long run, they will give us a healthier society and a healthier planet. Aren’t those the gifts we should be giving our children? And, wouldn't it be great if we could approach solving problems like these in a comprehensive, multi-faceted way instead of trying to attack them from one angle?

An Afternoon with Alba

I had the most wonderful day today! After going to church with Mom & Dad (and happy Father's Day again, Dad!), I brought Alba over to my parents' house to spend some time playing in the back yard. Now, Alba is usually shy and timid, and frankly dominated by her sister Alice. She tends to cower in the back of her crate, and will only come out with a lot of coaxing (which sometimes involves dragging--it feels mean, but when you need to get the dog to eat or go outside, you do what you have to!). Not surprisingly, when Mom & I came to my house to pick her up, she was not happy to be going anywhere!

Side note--Mom and I decided that since Alba is so timid, it would be better to bring just her rather than both puppies. We felt that it would be less traumatic for her to get used to a new place without having to contend with her over-eager sibling. (Another side note: please don't think that I don't love Alice too! She's energetic, happy, cute, silly, and all those things a puppy is supposed to be. I just feel sorry for them both sometimes, because I think that they're hampered by each other's behavior & their relationship.)Anyway, we got Alba to M&D's house, and I walked (partially dragged) Alba from her crate to the back yard. For those who haven't seen it, M&D have a nice big fenced-in back yard; perfect for dogs to run around in. (Rachel & I have a back yard, but it's not fully fenced-in, so the puppies can't run free.) By the time we got from the car to the gate, Alba was walking normally, sniffing the air, the grass, etc. And by the time we got through the gate, she was ready to start exploring.
We brought her crate into the yard so she would have her "safety zone" nearby. For the first 20 minutes or so, she ran all around the yard, sniffing, marking her new territory, and exploring. It was so much fun to watch! She was bright-eyed, alert, and perky, dancing around the yard, and obviously having a ball. After a bit, I led her to the water bowl we had put out next to her crate so she'd feel totally comfortable. She went back into her crate for a while, worn out from these new experiences, but seeming content. When Dad got home a bit later, we all sat out in the yard near Alba's crate, letting her get used to these new people, their smells and their voices. After a while of that, I brought her back out of the crate. She was a bit shy at first, as she always is around new people (she hadn't met Dad before), but she quickly got back to running around and exploring. It was such a joy to watch her acting like the puppy she is!
The next big milestone was when she VOLUNTARILY came up to Dad and sniffed his toes. It was really exciting, because Alba usually won't approach a new person at all, and she seems especially wary of men. Before too long, she had taken a handful of food from Dad, and not long after that, she was letting him pet her. I was so excited and happy that I was nearly in tears. I imagine I felt like parent watching their baby take her first step or speak his first word. We spent a couple of hours like this, enjoying Alba's company and watching her blossom into a normal puppy. She discovered a game with Mom tossing her bits of kibble, which she would then snuffle up from the grass. Mom decided that if she were to adopt Alba, she'd name her Snuffle (for Snuffleupagus). She let both Mom and Dad pet her, and ate from both of their hands. This all had a huge impact on her socialization. She now knows she is safe around other people (at least around my parents) and in other places. I think it will have a very good influence on her in her future home.

There was so much cuteness in the afternoon, it was overwhelming! Once she was all worn out--but still being brave and sociable!--we got her back in her crate, where she lay down without cowering in the back, and I brought her home. She made huge progress today, and we all had fun. I spent a lot of time clapping, bouncing, and giggling as I watched her brave new frontiers of puppyhood. It was a wonderful day for us all.

We got a couple of adorable pictures of Alba at the end of the evening, which I'll post just as soon as Dad emails them to me.


Update: Here are the pictures. They're from when Alba went back in her crate after she had spent a few hours out with us.
Here's Alba curled up--at the front of her crate!--peering out at the world.


And here she is with her chin resting on her toy. When I saw this, I just about melted! It was even cuter in person :) She's so worn out from her afternoon of playing that she's about to fall asleep.

A brief back-story on Allice and Alba

Alice and Alba were found in the "wild" in rural Virginia, where they were rescued by the shelter. (Homeward bound then rescued them from the shelter, and Rachel & I took them home as fosters.) They were emaciated and mangy, so the assumption is that they were abandoned early on or were born to a stray. At any rate, they had clearly been trying to fend for themselves for quite a while, given their extreme skinniness.

For additional info on Alice & Alba, check out their blog, and for info on other fosterable and adoptable pets, check out Homeward Trails or your local SPCA (here's the NOVA area's branch). There are lots of pets out there who need love! Even if you can't foster or adopt, there are still plenty of opportunities to help, either by volunteering or donating. We can all help make the world better for our furry friends.

Alice and Alba Update

Well, the gals were supposed to go to an adoption event this past weekend, but that didn't happen.

They had a check-up with the vet last week, and he discovered that they still have mange. :( That means that, before they can go to any events (or even be around other animals), they have another four-week course of treatment. Poor puppies! The do seem to be more comfortable, though--in addition to the mange medication, the vet also gave us some anti-itch meds.

I'd like to tell everyone a bit more about the puppies' personalities. Alice is brave and rambunctious, and likes to chew! She has lots and lots of chew toys to be sure that she doesn't get into anything bad. I have noticed, though, that if I'm sitting on the couch with bare feet, she likes to nibble my toes. (Apparently dogs have a thing for my feet. Belle liked to chew on my toes, too. I'm pretty sure that this is not flattering.) Fortunately, she doesn't bite down, hard, but it's pretty startling to suddenly feel...something...gnawing on my exposed toes when I'm not paying attention! Alice does have a tendency to dominate her sister. She has a very excited and inquisitive personality.

Alba is the quiet, shy one. She is still a bit timid, and she startles easily. She gets happy and excited, too, but tends to settle down quickly. She lets her sister bully her sometimes, and it seems like she's more of a follower. Alba is a good listener, and I suspect is going to be the easier of the two to train. Like all puppies, Alba likes to chew, but she's not as aggressive in seeking out chewies as Alice is. She is a sweet, loving dog.

Both of these girls are going to make wonderful pets when they find their permanent home! I suspect that they'll do better in the long run if they're adopted separately; I think that will allow them to develop their personalities without being too influenced by each other. I think that being separate will help Alice calm down and Alba become more bold.

Let's hope that the find a forever home soon!

Alice and Alba

About a week and a half ago, two new roommates joined my household. Alice and Alba are 7-month-old shepherd-hound mix sisters. They have mange, but are on their last treatment, and it's starting to clear up. They were rescued from a kill shelter in western VA by Homeward Trails Animal Rescue, a pet fostering & adoption organization. After a day in HT's care, Alice & Alba came home with Rachel and me. They were very timid and frightened for the first few days; they had obviously been abused and/or neglected before they got to us. They were both way too skinny, and they would shy away if you got too close to them. At first, they wouldn't even take a puppy biscuit from your hand; they'd run and hide in the corner under the coffee table rather than let you get close. It was painful to watch.

Fortunately, both girls are getting healthier and happier! They're both putting on some weight--especially Alice, who likes to hog the food!--and they're not scared of us anymore :) Alba is still timid, but she'll let me get close enough to take a treat right from my hand. We're helping them get used to us by having them eat handsful of food right from our palms. That seems to be making a big difference. Both of them are learning to walk on their leashes. Alice love to hop around on her leash! They enjoy being outside, but run straight for the house as soon as they've done their business. We're working on the house training, and expect both puppies to be accident-free before too much longer. Like all puppies, they LOVE to chew--we have to watch out for our fingers to avoid being nibbled on! Both of them now have a menagerie of toys to chew on and play with.

All in all, I'm glad that we're fostering the gals. They're looking for a loving permanent home--if anyone is interested, let me know!

Opening scene

This is a possible opening scene for my memoir. It's taken me a long time to get it finished, even though it's less than a page, because it's hard for me to acknowledge the emotional struggle. I have no problem talking about my physical rehab, pain, etc., but this is much harder. I debated pretty hard about whether or not I wanted to post this; it feels very exposing. What finally decided me is that, if I really do write and publish this memoir, the audience could be much broader than the loyal few who read my blog. So, here it is. Let me know what you think. (Oh, this is set in April 2004.)


Despite the sunshine streaming in the window, I slumped on my bed with my head in my hands. Why am I so sad? I tried to ignore the tears crawling down my cheeks. Life is good, so why can’t I be happy? Wiping my dripping nose on the back of my hand, I flopped backward. I don’t enjoy crying; everything about it makes me feel crappy. To end my jag, I worked on solving the puzzle of why, exactly, I was crying.

It was April. “I’ve been sad for over a month. I want to stop being miserable. Wait—I was sad last year at this time, too. I wonder if I have that seasonal depression thing?” The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. “Oh! I get depressed every year at this time. It’s the anniversary. Duh.”

With this “new” knowledge in hand, I picked up the phone and called help. The woman I called, Jill, is a friend of the family and the mother of a childhood friend. She had recently gotten certified & started practicing clinical psychology; I knew that she would be able to steer me to someone who could help me.

“Hi, Jill. I have a favor to ask. Do you know of a local therapist I can contact? I just realized that I’m having depression issues related to my stroke.” That conversation would change my life. I was about to start a journey that had been 12 years in the making. For those 12 years, I had been oblivious to the emotional charges buzzing around in my mind. I was finally going to start trying to defuse them.

Memoir exercise: a picture

This is the latest of the exercises I've done for my memoir class. The assignment was: choose one photograph that connects to your memoir and write as much as you can about the photograph. Include who is in the photo, where they are, what they are doing, how you feel about the event/place, etc. Below is what I wrote. Please leave feedback--I'm eager to know what people think.


The picture is of me in the coma. I’m lying on the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines and monitors. I have tubes going into/out of various parts of me: breathing tube, feeding tube, insulin drip, sedative drip, and so on. You can’t tell what all the tubes are, and I can’t really tell that I’m in a coma—I could be sleeping, except for the fact that I never sleep on my back.

In the spirit of fun, there are troll ponytail holders on each of my big toes. I loved trolls when I was 11, and my family wanted to bring something silly that I would have enjoyed (had I been conscious) to the room. There is an Irish flag at the head of the bed. I’m part Irish, and was obsessed with that part of my heritage. Since St. Patrick’s day had come while I was in the coma, “I” celebrated with the flag in my hospital room. My security blanket (which I slept with back then, and still do today!) and my stuffed lion are by my side. My family has done what they could to make my hospital room homey.

Mom is sitting next to the bed reading something—I can’t see what. She’s looking down at what she’s reading, holding it in her lap. The picture was taken after many of the lines and machines I was initially hooked up to were removed, and Mom looks serious, but not panicked.

I feel blasé about the picture, partly because I’m so familiar with the story and because it’s been so long since it happened. It doesn’t inspired great emotion in me, but at one point it interested me because it showed me during a time that is missing from my memory. It often seems like something that happened to someone else. My recovery sticks firmly in my memory, but I know nothing other than what I’ve been told about the time while I was in the coma.

More Memoir Mining

Here's another writing sample from my memoir class. The assignment was to write a passage starting with "I remember." The teacher really liked my submission--I hope you do, too! Let me know what you think.


I remember the bluebell-carpeted woods behind our house in England. Each summer, the bluebells would bloom, turning the woods into a sea of blue. It was breathtaking. You would almost expect to see fairies dancing among their flower homes; dwarves, unicorns, dragons, and princesses wouldn't have been out of place. Fairy tales are made in places like this.

I could play in those woods for days, if permitted. I would invent magical friends, dangerous adventures, and discovery-filled journeys, either by myself or with my sisters. We are a family blessed with imagination. Worlds were ours to explore in this magical place called The Woods.

We had names for a few of the 'roads' in the woods. These included Foxhole Road--named for the holes that we assumed housed the foxes who frequently graced our back garden--and, logically, Main Road, which was the biggest road, and the only one that vehicles could pass.

I remember the cows who summered in 'our' fields; being suburban folk, we were endlessly entertained by living next door to cows. One summer it was horses instead of cows, and we loved them! There was one beigey-colored horse that we named Peachy. She was beautiful, and we were sad to see her and her fellows go at the end of the summer.

England was a wild, magical, magnificent adventure that left me with an overactive imagination and a taste for nature.

Treasures

This is an exercise for a memoir writing class I'm taking. I'm so pleased with the results that I thought I'd share it with the world! The exercise was: write about your treasures. Here's what I wrote:


My treasures are many and varied. Some of them are material things, like my books or my rock collection, but most of them are spiritual. My material treasures are probably easier to write about, because I have words to describe them—so that’s where I’ll start.

I mentioned my books; I am more than an avid reader; my soul depends on reading. I am capable of going a day or two without a book, but I start to wither and die inside if I go too long. Reading is my heroin, and books are my fix. I don’t get the same reading high from magazines or newspapers. There’s just something about holding a book, with its glossy soft cover, corners slightly battered like an old tomcat’s ears, and the smoothness of the pages between my fingers, that soothes my soul. I regularly get too little sleep because I read in bed and lose track of time while I’m in the world of words on the page. I can escape any troubles in my life through the magic of books.

Other worldly treasures are a cup of tea on a rainy day (or any day, but there’s something even more special about tea when it’s raining), flowers blooming in spring after the long silent dormancy of winter, a breathtaking sunset, the world under a fresh carpet of snow the morning after a snow storm, and the booming power of a summer thunderstorm. Part of what makes these treasures for me is their fleetingness. I can enjoy the moment of my cup of tea on a rainy day, or watching a thunderstorm, knowing it will end. I know that this pleasure is for a finite time, but that I will get to enjoy it again someday.

My spiritual treasures start with peace—peace of mind, of soul, of emotion, and of body. This is one of the gifts I received from the journey of my stroke; the ability to experience peace in turbulent circumstances. Over the years since my stroke, I’ve come to lean more and more on God and trusting that He knows what is right and good, and that somehow, some day, I’ll see how His plan has played out in my life. During those dark moments, I can take a step back and be eager to see how this will end up blessing me and the world. God has given me the confidence that, despite the fact that I feel awful and I don’t think that what’s happening is a blessing, in the light of eternity it is a blessing and I will understand how and why when God leads me there. Knowing that He can use even my stupidest mistakes and poorest decisions to make blessings is a comfort, and from that I derive peace.

Peace leads me to joy. Knowing that, with God’s peace, everything will work out to the good even if it’s not in my lifetime, frees me to feel all-encompassing joy even in dull moments. I can look at the sky and feel awe at its scope and know that all is well. The joy swells up inside me, starting at my stomach, and pushes all my negative feelings away. And with that radiating joy surrounding me, I can share some of my peace with others. It’s a “vicious” cycle—I feel peace, which leads me to joy, which brings me more peace…

These are my treasures.

Memoir?

Okay, so I've been working on writing a memoir for a couple of months, but haven't really gotten anywhere. Anyone who knows me probably knows what the memoir will be about: my stroke. Why should I be struggling with it, though? I've told the story a million times, so it's not like I don't know what I'm trying to say. That of course, is part of the problem--I've told the story so often that I don't pay attention to the details of the story. I also play it down a lot, for several reasons. One of those reasons is that it always comes out sounding melodramatic, and I don't like melodrama. I invariably feel like I'm trying to out-do the person I'm talking to, a la "I've suffered more than you have!" which is never what I'm trying to say (unless I'm talking to Kara or Jane. But that's a different issue!) Also, it was 17 years ago--plenty of time for me to forget those details. And last but not least, it's boring for me (like I said, I've told it a million times. You can only remain interested in your own story for so many tellings!).

Right now I'm working with a concept of interspersing tidbits of the stroke story with fiction. I don't know how that will work out. In the long run, I want to communicate what I've learned & how my stroke shaped me. One of the things I learned is the importance of temporary escape (along the lines of going to my imaginary special place when the pain of PT got overwhelming), and I'd like to provide a bit of that by using some of my fiction along with my memoir. I just don't know if that will end up going over well--or, for that matter, how to work the fiction in.

So, someday, I hope to publish a memoir. I welcome feedback, questions, and suggestions--not to mention prayers for me to actually finish it!