I've fought the idea of getting a Kindle for a long time now. Even when my sister got one and raved about it; even when I had to eighty-six a pair of comfortable shoes to make room for my reading material as we set out for the Pacific Northwest, (the hell with blisterless feet . . . who cares about how heavy my carry-on is . . .); even when Ben, my oldest, came home with his Kindle and showed me the ways it made reading easier and more fun for him.
You see, I'm not unlike many others of my generation who have declined to go there . . . to the technical side, with its seductions of brighter, faster, lighter, easier, cooler. Books have their seductions, too, I argued: Their feel, their heft, so substantial, so familiar; the way we tend to hold them, referentially and close to the heart; the fact that I can buy them for a quarter at rummage sales or take them out for free from the library.
A Kindle, I maintained, would place certain demands on me--like learning how to use it; like learning not to lose it; like having to use PayPal or my debit card to make it work. The last one, that paying business, seems to be something technology is really good at. There's the cable TV, the cell phones, the Internet--all things that show no respect for my frugal ways, which cuts me deeply!
So, imagine my surprise when I opened up a Kindle on Christmas Day. No, I take that back: Imagine my surprise at my delight when I opened up a Kindle on Christmas Day.
It was a thing of beauty . . .
Okay, so I've only downloaded a copy of Anne of Green Gables, which was free (of course). . . and, the first time I sat down to read I couldn't figure out how to turn the page . . . and, I've been afraid to take it out of the house. . .
Still, I love the possibilities. No more adding my name to long waiting lists at the library. No more sighs of anticipation for a new book some reviewer has dangled in front of me. No more fears of being without a book when I travel. And the feature I love best: No more stopping to look up an unfamiliar word in the dictionary. (You see, I love words and the Kindle will give you a definition instantly! No more delayed gratification for this gal, no sirree!)
All I gotta do now is figure out what button to push or arrow to press to make that happen. As soon as I find my way to page two of Anne of Green Gables, I'll do just that. Just watch me!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Medical Records
"The breasts are symmetrical in size, shape and architecture."
Well, who knew? I shared this little tidbit with Katz this morning over breakfast, quoting information my doctor had noted in my medical records during an annual breast exam 10 years back.
The notes from a routine physical were also interesting: "The patient denies skin rashes or itching. Denies slurred speech, double vision, imbalance or headache. Denies feeling blue, depressive symptoms, sleep loss or psychiatric hospitalization." There are also denials about my GI tract, joints, eyes, mouth and heart. After reading this summation, I felt more like I'd been through a criminal investigation than through a check up. Oh, I know questions were asked and answered, it all just felt more conversational and less like a cross examination than the records indicate.
I also found records of a pelvic ultrasound I never had revealing cysts I never had. My records indicate the procedure was conducted on the same day I had a mammogram. My name is on the results of both procedures, but the date of birth is wrong for the ultrasound.
All in all, between interesting word choices and the inclusion of someone else's information, it was an interesting read. It was made all the more interesting because my medical records were almost lost forever.
With the advent of electronic records, more and more paper records are being destroyed daily. A trip to a new ENT who wanted more information on my thyroid cancer from 10 years ago revealed that my old records were missing. With no pathology report or surgeon's notes and recommendations to support my assertion that surgery removed the cancer and resulted in a complete cure, this new doctor suggested I have a MRI.
I balked. I've decided recently it's important in these times of rampant medical tests and out of control costs to challenge physicians on why a test is being ordered, how necessary it is, and what are the physical and financial ramifications of having the test done. Turns out, she told me, if she had my records, she wouldn't need the MRI.
So, four weeks and multiple phone calls later and after some interference from Katz (who happens to work for my health care provider), my records were found. After insisting that pertinent information regarding my cancer history be entered into my electronic record, Katz and I both got our own copies of our records.
So, moral of the story: Don't let flattery distract you (Symmetrical shape and architecture? You sweet talker, you!). Call your doctor and find out how far back your medical history goes and if it doesn't go back far enough, make some noise.
Well, who knew? I shared this little tidbit with Katz this morning over breakfast, quoting information my doctor had noted in my medical records during an annual breast exam 10 years back.
The notes from a routine physical were also interesting: "The patient denies skin rashes or itching. Denies slurred speech, double vision, imbalance or headache. Denies feeling blue, depressive symptoms, sleep loss or psychiatric hospitalization." There are also denials about my GI tract, joints, eyes, mouth and heart. After reading this summation, I felt more like I'd been through a criminal investigation than through a check up. Oh, I know questions were asked and answered, it all just felt more conversational and less like a cross examination than the records indicate.
I also found records of a pelvic ultrasound I never had revealing cysts I never had. My records indicate the procedure was conducted on the same day I had a mammogram. My name is on the results of both procedures, but the date of birth is wrong for the ultrasound.
All in all, between interesting word choices and the inclusion of someone else's information, it was an interesting read. It was made all the more interesting because my medical records were almost lost forever.
With the advent of electronic records, more and more paper records are being destroyed daily. A trip to a new ENT who wanted more information on my thyroid cancer from 10 years ago revealed that my old records were missing. With no pathology report or surgeon's notes and recommendations to support my assertion that surgery removed the cancer and resulted in a complete cure, this new doctor suggested I have a MRI.
I balked. I've decided recently it's important in these times of rampant medical tests and out of control costs to challenge physicians on why a test is being ordered, how necessary it is, and what are the physical and financial ramifications of having the test done. Turns out, she told me, if she had my records, she wouldn't need the MRI.
So, four weeks and multiple phone calls later and after some interference from Katz (who happens to work for my health care provider), my records were found. After insisting that pertinent information regarding my cancer history be entered into my electronic record, Katz and I both got our own copies of our records.
So, moral of the story: Don't let flattery distract you (Symmetrical shape and architecture? You sweet talker, you!). Call your doctor and find out how far back your medical history goes and if it doesn't go back far enough, make some noise.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Green or Gross?
I like to think I have a pretty decent environmental bent. When my now grown kids were little, long before communities picked up recycling, I organized neighborhood teams to collect recyclables and deliver them to the local recycling center. Every 6 weeks, it was our turn to go around to half-a-dozen houses and pick up their weekly recycling. BJ and Josh helped, which made me think I was raising little environmental ambassadors for the future. Today, they're pretty good . . . but not as good as their mother.
These days, some people might say I take things a little far, so I'll let you decide. Besides recycling everything I possibly can--including digging in our trash to retrieve items my less environmentally pure husband tosses out--here are some of my green practices. Weigh in and tell me 1) Way to go! or, 2) Way too far!
1) Composting in a blender - I bought an extra blender at a rummage sale years ago, and my vegetable scraps, fruit rinds and such go in there to be blended with water and added to the compost heap. This compost soup doesn't take long to turn into rich, black dirt once it hits my compost bin, and when it is eventually incorporated into my garden, my plants bow their little flower heads in appreciation. The container goes back under the sink, rinsed occasionally but rarely washed, ready to blend more green debris another day.
2) Paper towels (1) - I use rags or dishcloths a lot where others would use paper towels--that's a no-brainer in my opinion--but I can't swear off paper towels altogether. Still, throwing them away after one use when they haven't been used on a dirty floor or a puddle of grease seems extravagant to me. So, the towels I use to soak up the water from my washed fruit get draped on the clean dishes in the drainer, to be used to pat dry that next washed raspberry or green bean. I'm guessing my reuse factor for draining clean fruit is 1 x 6. Even when I've decided to move on to a new square of toweling, the old one will get one final use to spot clean a drip on the floor before finding it's way into the trash.
3) Paper towels (2) - Despite being chairperson of the environmental impact team at work for two years, we still have bathrooms with paper towels instead of the environmentally preferable air dryers. I need two pieces of toweling to dry my hands sufficiently after a thorough scrubbing, and I have been known to take those towels (dampened only with water from my clean hands, mind you!) back to my desk. They do end up in the trash soon thereafter, but only after they've helped remove a layer of dust from my computer and desk.
4) Paper towels (3) - I've pulled a hunk of toweling from the roll in the produce department of my local grocer, patted dry a cabbage head or too-wet bunch of green onions, then found another use for it. Usually, it travels home with me, gets tossed under the kitchen sink to be used for a future cleaning assignment.
5) Sanitizing wipes - The whole flu thing last year kicked the use of sanitizers way up, and I always grab one of the wipes from the dispenser at the Y when I arrive for my daily workout. I use it to wipe the screen and handles of my favorite treadmill, then I store it behind my water bottle so that it doesn't dry out while I go through my 40 minute routine. When I'm done, I wipe down the machine again with my still moist towelette. Some days I even take the now twice used wipe with me to the car, where I use it to dust my dash.
Quirky? Yes, of course. Frugal? No doubt. Environmentally sound thinking? That's an affirmative. But for the germ-phobic out there, the pristine, the highly sanitized, there might just be a "yuck" factor to consider. So, what do you think? "Way to go" or "Way too far"? Go ahead an "way" in!
These days, some people might say I take things a little far, so I'll let you decide. Besides recycling everything I possibly can--including digging in our trash to retrieve items my less environmentally pure husband tosses out--here are some of my green practices. Weigh in and tell me 1) Way to go! or, 2) Way too far!
1) Composting in a blender - I bought an extra blender at a rummage sale years ago, and my vegetable scraps, fruit rinds and such go in there to be blended with water and added to the compost heap. This compost soup doesn't take long to turn into rich, black dirt once it hits my compost bin, and when it is eventually incorporated into my garden, my plants bow their little flower heads in appreciation. The container goes back under the sink, rinsed occasionally but rarely washed, ready to blend more green debris another day.
2) Paper towels (1) - I use rags or dishcloths a lot where others would use paper towels--that's a no-brainer in my opinion--but I can't swear off paper towels altogether. Still, throwing them away after one use when they haven't been used on a dirty floor or a puddle of grease seems extravagant to me. So, the towels I use to soak up the water from my washed fruit get draped on the clean dishes in the drainer, to be used to pat dry that next washed raspberry or green bean. I'm guessing my reuse factor for draining clean fruit is 1 x 6. Even when I've decided to move on to a new square of toweling, the old one will get one final use to spot clean a drip on the floor before finding it's way into the trash.
3) Paper towels (2) - Despite being chairperson of the environmental impact team at work for two years, we still have bathrooms with paper towels instead of the environmentally preferable air dryers. I need two pieces of toweling to dry my hands sufficiently after a thorough scrubbing, and I have been known to take those towels (dampened only with water from my clean hands, mind you!) back to my desk. They do end up in the trash soon thereafter, but only after they've helped remove a layer of dust from my computer and desk.
4) Paper towels (3) - I've pulled a hunk of toweling from the roll in the produce department of my local grocer, patted dry a cabbage head or too-wet bunch of green onions, then found another use for it. Usually, it travels home with me, gets tossed under the kitchen sink to be used for a future cleaning assignment.
5) Sanitizing wipes - The whole flu thing last year kicked the use of sanitizers way up, and I always grab one of the wipes from the dispenser at the Y when I arrive for my daily workout. I use it to wipe the screen and handles of my favorite treadmill, then I store it behind my water bottle so that it doesn't dry out while I go through my 40 minute routine. When I'm done, I wipe down the machine again with my still moist towelette. Some days I even take the now twice used wipe with me to the car, where I use it to dust my dash.
Quirky? Yes, of course. Frugal? No doubt. Environmentally sound thinking? That's an affirmative. But for the germ-phobic out there, the pristine, the highly sanitized, there might just be a "yuck" factor to consider. So, what do you think? "Way to go" or "Way too far"? Go ahead an "way" in!
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