I have never had any real medical procedures. The last one I had was in high school when I got my wisdom teeth pulled out. And that's not anything severe, although they do put you under and rip four teeth out of your head. It could be a little intense. I remember waking up confused, in a small cubbyhole bed in the dentist's office, with a guy telling me that he knew my brother. He proceeded to have a conversation with me, but I couldn't talk. I was so drugged up, I could barely make out what he looked like. I don't even remember getting home.
This last memory of my big medical procedure came to me as I was leaving the doctor today. I didn't freak out then and think that I was never going to wake up, so why was I so worried the other day?
A few days ago I called my extremely well trusted dermatologist, to have him look at a bump on my left shoulder. I don't want to get into any details, because I for one hate creating an image of a medical abnormality. I can barely watch Gray's Anatomy, and I definitely can't watch the surgery channel. As I lied in bed the other night my mind began to wander, and the mild hypochondriac in me went crazy. My first thought was it could be cancerous, or pre-cancer, since according to my symptoms, my doctor deduced that it was most likely infected. An infected growth on my shoulder. What if the cancer spread down my arm? By now I was sure it was cancer. I started to think of all the people that I know that have gotten cancer. Girls my age; I was sad. Sad for them, and how they endured so much pain. The pain in their bodies, and the emotional pain they and their families experienced. I was almost in tears as my mind continued to fire a chain of completely unrealistic thoughts. It's going to spread down my arm, and the next thing I know, its not going to be just an infected lump, but my whole arm will get infected. And you know what happens at that point. They cut it off. So now I have no arm. How am I going to do anything with only one arm?
That's when I started to laugh. I went from crying to laughing in less than a minute. Cut off my arm. What year is this? They don't bring out the hacksaw and just start cutting off limbs these days. I actually imagined myself with just a stump for an arm. I put my head on the Soul Surfer's body. The fact that the mind can go from a normal thought to something totally ridiculous, made me laugh. No arm! Just don't even think about it and go to sleep.
Today was the big procedure. I won't go into any bloody details, but everything turned out fine. My doctor said I was one of the calmest patients. I walked away with a tender gauze patched shoulder. And my arm still attached.
Note: Not everything is worth worrying about. Don't let your thoughts overtake reality.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
A History Lesson in Paradise
Hawaii is a tropical paradise. So much in fact, that before planes were the main means for transportation, visitors would jump ship and swim back to shore, leaving their family and luggage behind. I don't think I would ever climb overboard for it, but the islands definitely make you want to come back for more. This trip to Hawaii proved to be more educational than the usual lounging on Waikiki, ordering drinks at the Mai Tai Bar, and watching hula dancers shake it at the luau.
On the second full day of the trip, I set off on an early morning hike up Diamond Head. I walked the steep steps, trekked through the dimly lit claustrophobic tunnel, ducked under the old military lookout, and made my way to the top. I looked out at the pristine landscape. The perfect teal water swept up onto the shore and sparkled blue further in the distance. The lush mountains sprawled with crawling real estate. The white speckled beaches. Yet my attention was no where, until a large burly man at the top of the crater gathered everyone around. He looked as if he just got kicked off of Survivor. His khaki shorts matched his khaki vest that he wore as a shirt. His once mildly tan skin was now a deep Hawaiian brown from 30 years on the island. A search and rescuer, a survivalist, and a tour guide, Mitch informed the fellow hikers that he would be taking a group outside the city on remote jungle hikes, all while informing them about the natural Hawaiian surroundings. This grabbed my attention, anything to get me away from the overload of Waikiki for the day. I was all in.
The next afternoon I piled in the tour bus with fifteen other strangers and let Mitch lead the way. He talked the whole way, in fact, he talked the whole time he was driving, informing us about the plants and trees we saw from the windows. A quick stop at an ancient burial and jaunt to a waterfall, and we were learning about the local birds and their flight patterns.
We made our way through the tall peaked green mountains. The thick jungle encompassed the road, as Mitch gave us a brief history of the islands. It was King Kamehameha that unified the Hawaiian Islands, which were all ruled by individual leaders. But when Kamehameha landed on the neighboring islands, there was no way to compete with the 7'4'' warrior and his fleet of 960 war canoes and 10,000 soldiers. By 1810 he had unified all eight islands. Although Princess Ka'iulani, the last reigning princess of the dynasty, tried to keep the kingdom together, it was annexed to the United States in 1898. Although, Hawaii did not become a state until 1959.
We pulled off along the side of the road to a path that had been made through the thick jungle and bamboo forest. We walked in silence out of respect to where we were about to go. At the end of the path was Kaniakapupu, the summer palace of King Kamehameha III and his Queen Kalama. Completed in 1845, it was a place for entertainment and feasting with foreign celebrities and chiefs. The greatest of these was a luau attended by an estimated 10,000 people celebrating Hawaiian Restoration Day in 1847. It is now a sacred place, for thought and reflection.
As we were about to pull away, Mitch, being the manly man that he is, pulled a long piece of what looked like a regular fallen branch, and began to rip off the outer layer. He tore at the long skinny branch to reveal the inner thin rope lining, which would would have been used for thread, fishing line, sewing huts and clothing, and pretty much anything else you could imagine. After his barbaric act and demonstration, Mitch got on the bus, put on his headset and sweetly talked to us about the medicinal purposes of the native plants.
The bus came to a stop along the road across from a Tesco gas station. We walked down the gravel path to, what Mitch called one of THE most sacred places in Oahu. Ulupo Heiau. It is the second largest heiau, or Hawaiian temple, on the island. The temple is made of local rocks that have been piled and piled on top of one another since the 1400s. Although you may no longer add to the blessed monument, you can bring small offerings to set at the foot of the stone alter. During time of sorrow or of happiness, a rock would be blessed and prayed over by every passing hand. Each person would put all of their thought, prayer, chi, energy, whatever you may call it, into the stone and pass it to the next person. It would continue on this way until it reached the alter. Providing a sacrament to the gods. The Ulupo Heiau measures 140 feet by 180 feet and is about 30 feet high. I left there giving some of my positive energy, and receiving that of the ancient believers.
As the bus pulled into Waikiki, and Mitch continued to share his vast knowledge about the Hawaiian culture and the benefits of a healthy diet, I was again drawn in. In just four short hours I learned much more than what I sought out for on my relaxing trip to Hawaii. I gained an understanding of the Hawaiian history and the native land. I learned about weather patterns, medicinal plants and herbs, and gained a reconfirmation of the benefits of eating natural foods. It was much better than just soaking up the sun and surf for another day. Although, I did get some of that in, of course.
Note: Not all vacations, or people, are as they seem. Some might surprise you.
 |
| Waikiki Beach |
On the second full day of the trip, I set off on an early morning hike up Diamond Head. I walked the steep steps, trekked through the dimly lit claustrophobic tunnel, ducked under the old military lookout, and made my way to the top. I looked out at the pristine landscape. The perfect teal water swept up onto the shore and sparkled blue further in the distance. The lush mountains sprawled with crawling real estate. The white speckled beaches. Yet my attention was no where, until a large burly man at the top of the crater gathered everyone around. He looked as if he just got kicked off of Survivor. His khaki shorts matched his khaki vest that he wore as a shirt. His once mildly tan skin was now a deep Hawaiian brown from 30 years on the island. A search and rescuer, a survivalist, and a tour guide, Mitch informed the fellow hikers that he would be taking a group outside the city on remote jungle hikes, all while informing them about the natural Hawaiian surroundings. This grabbed my attention, anything to get me away from the overload of Waikiki for the day. I was all in.
 |
| Diamond Head |
 |
| The River Used in the TV Series Lost |
We made our way through the tall peaked green mountains. The thick jungle encompassed the road, as Mitch gave us a brief history of the islands. It was King Kamehameha that unified the Hawaiian Islands, which were all ruled by individual leaders. But when Kamehameha landed on the neighboring islands, there was no way to compete with the 7'4'' warrior and his fleet of 960 war canoes and 10,000 soldiers. By 1810 he had unified all eight islands. Although Princess Ka'iulani, the last reigning princess of the dynasty, tried to keep the kingdom together, it was annexed to the United States in 1898. Although, Hawaii did not become a state until 1959.
 |
| Bamboo Forest |
We pulled off along the side of the road to a path that had been made through the thick jungle and bamboo forest. We walked in silence out of respect to where we were about to go. At the end of the path was Kaniakapupu, the summer palace of King Kamehameha III and his Queen Kalama. Completed in 1845, it was a place for entertainment and feasting with foreign celebrities and chiefs. The greatest of these was a luau attended by an estimated 10,000 people celebrating Hawaiian Restoration Day in 1847. It is now a sacred place, for thought and reflection.
 |
| Kaniakapupu |
As we were about to pull away, Mitch, being the manly man that he is, pulled a long piece of what looked like a regular fallen branch, and began to rip off the outer layer. He tore at the long skinny branch to reveal the inner thin rope lining, which would would have been used for thread, fishing line, sewing huts and clothing, and pretty much anything else you could imagine. After his barbaric act and demonstration, Mitch got on the bus, put on his headset and sweetly talked to us about the medicinal purposes of the native plants.
 |
| Jungle Hike |
The bus came to a stop along the road across from a Tesco gas station. We walked down the gravel path to, what Mitch called one of THE most sacred places in Oahu. Ulupo Heiau. It is the second largest heiau, or Hawaiian temple, on the island. The temple is made of local rocks that have been piled and piled on top of one another since the 1400s. Although you may no longer add to the blessed monument, you can bring small offerings to set at the foot of the stone alter. During time of sorrow or of happiness, a rock would be blessed and prayed over by every passing hand. Each person would put all of their thought, prayer, chi, energy, whatever you may call it, into the stone and pass it to the next person. It would continue on this way until it reached the alter. Providing a sacrament to the gods. The Ulupo Heiau measures 140 feet by 180 feet and is about 30 feet high. I left there giving some of my positive energy, and receiving that of the ancient believers.
 |
| The Road Through the Jungle |
As the bus pulled into Waikiki, and Mitch continued to share his vast knowledge about the Hawaiian culture and the benefits of a healthy diet, I was again drawn in. In just four short hours I learned much more than what I sought out for on my relaxing trip to Hawaii. I gained an understanding of the Hawaiian history and the native land. I learned about weather patterns, medicinal plants and herbs, and gained a reconfirmation of the benefits of eating natural foods. It was much better than just soaking up the sun and surf for another day. Although, I did get some of that in, of course.
Note: Not all vacations, or people, are as they seem. Some might surprise you.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Miss Manners Says
Last night during a four course dinner with my extended family, I found myself caught by a young Miss Manners. While I was languidly waiting for my lemon tart to arrive, I casually slipped out my cell phone to text a friend. I didn't think that anyone was paying attention, as everyone seemed to be carrying on with their own conversations. But the young eyes peering across from me saw all too well what I was hiding underneath the table. Natalie, get off your phone. I looked up. My eleven year old cousin had just called me out. I didn't know what to say. I too, have often times pulled this move on my friends. Informing them that it is one of the rudest things to do. The people you are with are more important than the one on the phone. They are with you right now, sharing in this moment. The person on the phone can wait an hour (although this dinner had gone on for three). Even still, you need to show the ones that you are with, that you care about them, and that means giving them your undivided attention. This has become such a pet peeve of mine, I have now donned the name Miss Manners.
Miss Manners Says Never Use A Cellular Device At The Table.
I should have taken my own advice, or at least listened to my cousin the first time. But I did it again. I broke my own rule twice in one night. And I was caught. Again. The Young Miss Manners leaned over after dessert. You're on your phone. How did she know this was one of my number one rules? She didn't. But as a well mannered young girl, she knew. And so did the Miss Manners in me. I put my phone away for good, and asked about her junior high boyfriend. Engaging in polite conversation is something Miss Manners would always approve.
Note: Always practice proper etiquette. You never know if Miss Manners is sitting at your table.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Vin Scully and I Bleed Blue
What a great opening weekend for the Dodgers, winning 3 of the 4 rival games against last year's world series champs, the San Francisco Giants, especially given the shake ups of the past season. And there is one person that remains constant, that the fans can always count on. Vin Scully.
The iconic voice of Vin Scully takes me back to my childhood, when I didn't know anything about baseball, but the fact that my dad liked the Dodgers, so that meant I did too. Picking a favorite sports team when I was little always meant picking what colors I liked the best. If that day I liked red and white I wanted the Chicago Bulls to win. If it was aqua and orange, I was going for the Miami Dolphins. It didn't matter where they were from, or the fact that the team repped an area and people that I was completely disconnected from. But with baseball, it was always the Dodgers. There were never any other colors to choose from. I bled blue.
In the summertime, we would open up the small kitchen window and let the warm breeze blow in, and with it brought the voice of Vin Scully coming from the neighbor's television. The sweetest old woman who had a love for Dodger baseball. She would sit in her green recliner chair in the corner of her small living room, watching the Dodgers on her big box television set, the type that only allowed you to change the channel from the dial on the t.v its self. If it was later in the evening, and the light in the corner was on, you knew that she was watching baseball. You could see her as you drove by, and once inside you could hear that iconic voice coming from the open push up window. Vin Scully would give a play by play so precise, it was as if you were at the game. His familiar voice will always take me back to my childhood.
Being a Dodger fan has become more than repping my SoCal roots. It brings me memories of going to games as a kid, celebrating countless birthdays, wearing my brother's old baseball cap, and the peaceful sounds of summer coming through the open window.
This will be Vin Scully's 62nd year as an announcer for the Dodgers. The longest of any broadcaster with a single team in the history of professional sports. Players have come and gone, and this past year so did manager Joe Torre and part owner Jamie McCourt, but announcer Vin Scully will never be traded and the Dodgers will never divorce him.
Note: Vin Scully. Need I say more.
The iconic voice of Vin Scully takes me back to my childhood, when I didn't know anything about baseball, but the fact that my dad liked the Dodgers, so that meant I did too. Picking a favorite sports team when I was little always meant picking what colors I liked the best. If that day I liked red and white I wanted the Chicago Bulls to win. If it was aqua and orange, I was going for the Miami Dolphins. It didn't matter where they were from, or the fact that the team repped an area and people that I was completely disconnected from. But with baseball, it was always the Dodgers. There were never any other colors to choose from. I bled blue.
In the summertime, we would open up the small kitchen window and let the warm breeze blow in, and with it brought the voice of Vin Scully coming from the neighbor's television. The sweetest old woman who had a love for Dodger baseball. She would sit in her green recliner chair in the corner of her small living room, watching the Dodgers on her big box television set, the type that only allowed you to change the channel from the dial on the t.v its self. If it was later in the evening, and the light in the corner was on, you knew that she was watching baseball. You could see her as you drove by, and once inside you could hear that iconic voice coming from the open push up window. Vin Scully would give a play by play so precise, it was as if you were at the game. His familiar voice will always take me back to my childhood.
Being a Dodger fan has become more than repping my SoCal roots. It brings me memories of going to games as a kid, celebrating countless birthdays, wearing my brother's old baseball cap, and the peaceful sounds of summer coming through the open window.
This will be Vin Scully's 62nd year as an announcer for the Dodgers. The longest of any broadcaster with a single team in the history of professional sports. Players have come and gone, and this past year so did manager Joe Torre and part owner Jamie McCourt, but announcer Vin Scully will never be traded and the Dodgers will never divorce him.
Note: Vin Scully. Need I say more.
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