Health

So, I read my previous blog post to Mark, and his first response was “Good luck!” And of course, I got a bit frustrated because that’s the sarcastic (for those playing along at home, yes, he was being sarcastic) response I dread when I talk about trying to be greener and eat more healthy. But after we talked for a while, we came up with an initial game plan:

1. Salads for dinner – Three years ago we implemented the plan of having a pitcher of water on the table for dinner every night. This has become so ingrained that we will sometimes end up with two pitchers because he puts one on at the same time as I do. So, the new plan includes salad every night. I am in charge of the salad.
2. Getting a new food processor – The only one we have is a tiny 3-cup model that I got when I was in college. It has served us well (okay, it really has served us just okay, but we’ve been too cheap to get another) for the 13 years we’ve been married. But I want hummus! And other things you can make only in a nice big 9+ cup food processor.
3. Getting rid of the bread maker – Of course, in our tiny kitchen, getting a new appliance means getting rid of something else to make room. And the fact is that we never use the bread maker. We mostly use it for kneading, and we have a dough hook on our KitchenAid mixer, that we use more often. Neither of us like the bread mixes you can get and bread baked in it tastes dull and boring. Do you know anyone who wants a bread maker? Hardly used!
4. Getting rid of other things we don’t use – Finally, we’re going to go through our clothes, the kitchen cabinets and even (gasp!) my books and the storage shed; giving away or selling anything that we don’t use. This should free up a ton of extra space!

Determining a game plan is a great way for me to feel like we’re on the way to where I want to be. Then reading about the cynicism of Monsanto and the loss of heirloom seeds and the pro-corporate greed of our “representative” government is a little less depressing.

I am reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver right now. And at the same time, I have been regularly reading The Zero Waste Home (a blog). What’s interesting to me is that I started both of these reading projects by reading some reviews and comments about them. And the comments I read went along the lines of “this is impossible!”, “what you’re asking me/us to do is not possible except for crazy zealots,” and “I don’t believe that your kids are all that thrilled by this plan for (zero waste or growing all your own food) as you imply they are.” And I admit that I read both the book and the blog with those thoughts in mind myself, kinda like I was watching a train wreck and couldn’t stop myself from rubber-necking on the side of the tracks. The problem isn’t that the ideas in these books/blogs are impossible - clearly they are possible as at least two families have made it happen. But the problem is that I don’t like to feel guilty and I don’t like to feel hopeless and that’s what both of these things do to me. I know for a fact that my home is still going to be producing waste and buying food from the grocery store a year from now. I know, with relative certainty that my son, husband, and I are all still going to be eating cookies, chips, and french fries in 2012. And I’m fairly confident that while I’ll have a garden again this year, I probably won’t be able to get much enthusiasm from my son or husband for eating what I grow. So here’s what I need:

So, my design is scheduled to be presented tomorrow, and I’ve already got a new design in mind. Holy, cow, Jenn! Why not stick with a design for, oh, say a week to try it out? Or at least until you’ve finished your presentation. But the “shiny!” Step away from the shiny, Jenn. You’re feverish, just walk away from Dreamweaver for right now.

Okay, I woke up with migrating pain in my sinuses. Taking advil and some antibiotic turned that off. Now the dull pain in my jaw is back. Makes it hard to focus or concentrate or write. I wish this were over with. I wish I hadn’t believed that the pain would stay manageable until Thursday and just made the appointment for Monday morning. Ah if wishes were fishes I’d be well fed for Lent.

Why do medical practitioners insist on treating their customers as cogs in a machine? Some offices use random numbers, others use parts of your social security number, and still others use your birth date. But what about something that is unique to me and I’m used to responding to, know by heart, and makes me feel like a person rather than a computer? I know this is going out on a limb, but maybe my NAME??? Add that to the office having their millions of systems that aren’t connected together and it doesn’t make me excited and happy to go to the doctor: «ring» receptionist: Hello XYZ medical clinic, how can I help you? me on phone: Hi, I’m in intense pain and was wondering if I could get in to see the Dr. today rather than on Thursday for my appointment. r: Sure! Let’s see, what’s your [ID number that they use]? me: ### r: [type type] Jennifer? me: Yes. r: Let’s see, I can transfer you to your Doctor’s receptionist. [click hold] me: (thinking) what are you then? «ring» receptionist 2: Hello, XYZ medical clinic, how can I help you? me: Hi, I’m in intense pain and was wondering if I could get in to see the Dr. today rather than on Thursday for my appointment. r2: Sure! Let’s see, what’s your [ID number that they use]? me: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! What is it about the medical community that they seem to confuse efficiency with lack of customer interaction? I don’t hearken back to the “good ole days” when the cure for a hangnail was to cut off your leg, but I wish I could afford a “concierge doctor” who would come to me and at least pretend to care that I’m scared, in pain, and upset. The end result was that I can’t move my appointment forward, they don’t have any room. But she was willing to cancel my appointment for me if I wanted. BUH??? Sure, I’m in pain, and want to move it FORWARD, but I’m sure canceling it completely will solve the problem. Perhaps you have a gun I can use to put myself out of my misery?