Take A Pill

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As spoiled Americans, we eat what we want and we smoke and drink in excess – irregardless of all the warnings from our doctors and the surgeon general. Then we sit back (because we sit way too much) and complain when we don’t feel well.

For some people, the solution is rather simple – “take a pill.” Or two. Or… We are notorious blamers. But we never want to take responsibility for our own actions. It’s so much easier to place the blame elsewhere. Or to expect a miracle at the last minute.

I have, personally, never liked taking pills. I will always try to find a more natural way to deal with any conditions or complications that arise. I only recently started taking vitamins – and only 3 each morning – to help give me more energy and to stave off the cold which permeates my bones and fingers and toes almost daily.

So… “to pill or not to pill?” That’s up to the individual (or their doctor). For me, I choose to eat right, abstain from drinking and smoking and, hopefully, I’ll live long (and well enough) to not regret it!

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Card-Carrying Sleuth

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It is becoming yet another full-time job of mine to troubleshoot everything and anything my Dad thinks he hears:

  • Voices outside the door
  • Chairs scraping from the condo above
  • Banging from the garage below 
  • Motorcycles revving up on the street

It’s entirely possible that some of these noises DID occur, at one time, and some I have actually heard myself. But I simply cannot track every sound and motion – even as it becomes his latest obsession. Then, when I tell him to please stop tapping his fingers or grinding his teeth because it’s distracting me while I’m trying to write (this blog post, for example), he gets all bent out of shape because he doesn’t think THOSE noises are annoying.

So, what’s the solution?

The solution is: turn up the volume of his TV (even more, if possible); wait for him to fall asleep in his comfy lounger (oops, he just did) and Voila… Problem solved!*

*at least until next time…

Brain Aerobic Exercises

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I’ve been given a unique opportunity to both care for my parents and also to discover a myriad of ways to control my anger/anxiety.

Yesterday, I found Dad pacing in his room. That wasn’t the scary part though. He was also yelling and placing blame for something that had just happened only, at the time, I wasn’t aware of what that was or why it had happened.

After talking to him (not quite as calmly as I would have liked at first) I was able to figure out the problem and solve it for him. Apparently, he had been painstakingly trying to shave his face for nearly 30 minutes and had gone through an entire pack of 12 disposable razors in the process. What he didn’t realize (due to his fading eyesight) was that the razors all had covers on them. This man who had once carried me around on his shoulders to keep me from scratching, during an agonizing bout with chickenpox (thanks to my brother), was now unable to see the tiny piece of plastic that was causing him so much misery.

Here’s where the yelling and blaming part comes in…

Apparently, when you get to this point in life, you feel like the world is against you so you blame anyone and everyone for your current situation. That said: “how can you possibly tell a man, who you’ve looked up to your entire life, that it’s his fault and his alone?” 

The answer is: “you can’t.” 

So, in an effort to exonerate everyone who had just been wrongly implicated in a conspiratorial incident I, instead, used some brain aerobic exercises and just dumped out the razors into the drawer with their covers off and hoped that no future fingers ended up with nasty razor cuts!