The Up-The-Nose Covid Test

Yesterday I went for my pre-surgery covid test. I'm having a partial mastectomy this week so the covid test is a precaution to protect the health care workers just in case I'm harbouring some of that coronavirus in my bod. Unlikely given that I've been pretty much isolated since last March, but you never know. 

I admit I was a little nervous about this test; my son and daughter have both had the up-the-nose test and both told me it was the worst thing ever. All weekend I kept trying to imagine what it would feel like to be probed deep into my noggin.

The hospital test center was solely for pre-surgery patients, so no one was lined up with symptoms. It was really quick! I went in, sat down, and a nice nurse lady explained that she was going to be very gentle. She took out what looked like a very long white mascara wand with a teensy brush on the end of it. Nurse Lady said she had to stick it up my nose and twirl it around for ten seconds. I nodded, ok. I'm ready.

She holds the wand up to my cheek horizontally, as if measuring how far to stick it in. Out of the corner of my eye, I'm thinking YIKES that's like SIX INCHES man! Wat?

Twirl it for ten seconds.

 

And in it goes. It kind of burns. But not much. Nurse Lady says she now has to start the twirling for ten seconds. Ok, let's go.She starts counting out loud, "One Mississippi... two Mississippi... three Mississippi..."

The burning intensifies just a little, and a sound starts coming out of me, "OOOOooooooOOOoooo". I mean it was hilarious, I had no control over this noise, it was completely involuntary.

Nice Nurse lady counts faster, "Five Mississippi, six Mississippi, seven Mississippi,"

Me: "oooooOOOOOoOOooOOOOoOOO!"

NNL: "EightMissippinineMissppiTEN!!!" and she whips it out from the depths of my nasal passage.

The burning stops, and a tiny tear rolls its way out of the corner of my left eye. And that was it. To be honest I felt a little bit let down. And like, somehow, they should do the other nostril as well, just to keep things balanced and symmetrical. I suggested it, but Nurse Lady just laughed.

It was really not as bad as a colonoscopy, or a PAP smear, or even having your teeth cleaned. You don't have to take off any clothes, and it's only ten very fast seconds.

Mind you, this was a pre-surgery covid test with a Nice Nurse Lady. If I had had symptoms, and was stressed and worried about getting sick, or getting my loved ones sick, and burdening the healthcare system, not to mention waiting in line for hours, it would be a different story.

Things that are worse than the up-the-nose covid test.

Have you had the up-the-nose covid test? Let me know if it was better or worse than anything on this list.

Stay safe and mask up!

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Elephant In the Brain

The Ides of March, my sobriety anniversary, or "soberthday", came and went yesterday without fanfare. It's been four years since I quit drinking. 

Every year an old friend of mine calls to congratulate me on staying sober, and yesterday was no different. He said that he was impressed that I had made it this far, and that he knew how hard it was to quit. My reply, as always, was that I didn't find it hard. I found that continuing drinking was hard; not drinking was so much easier.

No self loathing. No little mind games. No shame. Much easier.

But I'm carefully ignoring something: the elephant is no longer in the room, but it's still lurking in my brain.  I'm not accounting for the hidden costs of sobriety. I'm not acknowledging the losses. There are friendships and communities of drinking buddies that fall away and disintegrate. It's painful. Even though you have no issue being around drinkers or being at parties, the invitations dry up. You are excluded from certain events.

The photos posted to Facebook of a girls night out, or a trip to a winery stings a little. You can see the party going on inside the bubble, but you know that you are not welcome. Not because you can't handle it, but because they can't.

And that is just the superficial pain. It runs deeper and with greater intensity, and it touches the raw nerve of your identity. People who have known you your whole life accuse you of having changed. They don't recognize you. They're even angry, as though you'd cheated them, or stolen something they felt was theirs.

You spent so many years covering up the fear and doubt, drowning out the loneliness with booze and being a happy, funny, party girl. They miss that girl. But she is not who you are - she never was.

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The Very Bored Elephant.

It used to be the biggest thing in the room, and now, three years later, the shrinking elephant is so very bored.

Definitely not drinking is easier than drinking; my struggle ended when I made the decision to quit. It incinerated this punishing loop of self-loathing.

I remember being scared, like, what if I fail? And my mom said, "Yes, you might fail. But if you fail, it's alright; you start over. You're allowed to fail." And I was like, oh, that's pretty straightforward. I can do this.

Life is a little different. I lost a friend or two along the way. It forced me to re-evaluate my friendship goals. And that was sad, but ultimately liberating.

I don't get invited to aaaaalll the parties anymore. Though I do get invited to some. I was at a friend's birthday celebration and I was laughing and having fun. A man offered me some wine. I told him, "No, thanks". He then straight-up told me that he was going to order a bottle and that I was going to drink some. After momentarily toying with the idea of just telling him, "I'M AN ALCOHOLIC" I thought, but why give any explanation when "no" should be enough? So I simply repeated myself, "No. Thank-you." He backed away.

I have the power. I'm good. Love you guys!

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The Bored Elephant.

Two years sober, today.

Two years ago, the unspoken alcoholic truth loomed large in the room. Today, I hardly think of it. The elephant is still there...but it's really, really small. And bored out of its tiny mind.

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The Shrinking Elephant.

Last May I finally acknowledged the gigantic elephant in the room: I’m an alcoholic. Today I'm sober for one year.

There’s a lot I could say about quitting drinking…like:

1. You don’t have to drink “a lot” to be alcoholicle. 
2. There’s a world of difference between stopping and quitting. 
3. Naming the beast was half the job. 
4. You can quit for your family, but it’s far better to quit for your self. 
5. Drinking was harder than not drinking. 
6. Some friendships evaporate, others solidify. 
7. Chocolate helps. 
8. Living without headaches and hangovers is soooooo great.
9. Sex is a million times better.
10. I can still swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier. 

Yeah, there's a lot I could say. But tonight, right now, all I want to do is bask in the glow.

Comments are here.

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Exercise & Bras.

I've been making a few incremental changes in my life lately. Most of them are small things, like quitting drinking, spending time with loved ones, and brushing my teeth before bed. But they also include exercise. I am smart.

So today I'm going to talk to you about exercise and bras (my favourite fashion item). Have a look at the animated GIF here:

When I go running I wear a regular bra with a sports bra on top. Even so, I noticed that when I run around the park my bra straps fall down. I have to interrupt my rhythm to push them back up but they just fall down again. This is so frikkin' annoying it makes me want to give up! The health benefits of exercise are surely outweighed by the stress of having to return those dumb bra straps to my shoulders over and over. Right?

Anyways I was thinking, maybe I could do some kind of exercise that builds up my shoulder muscles. The muscle bulges would keep my bra straps from falling down again.

OK geniuses, what kind of exercise do I need to do to achieve this goal?

Sometimes I do a mini-workout first thing in the morning. It can be tempting to roll out of bed and do jumping jacks in my pyjamas before I'm completely awake.

It never occurred to me that my un-tethered gazongas might render me unconscious with their wild swinging.

Jumping-jack TKO.

It was a big mistake and I won't be doing that again.

Next time I'll just put my bra on, on top of my jammies.

Exercise is good for you!

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Elephant.

"I'm calling this."

Are you sure? You can't take it back once it's out there.

"I'm ready. I'm brave."

Wow. You're really letting go of this.

"Yeah, I love wine. I love the drunkies, I love the way it makes me giggle!"

So why quit?

"Because I love me more. I can finally stop hating myself."

Self-loathing is not cool for someone as lovable as you, JC.

"Thank-you for saying that."

You're welcome. We won't judge you. 

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Bruise Pride.

What is it about teenagers and their injuries? They show off their bruises like trophies, a testimonial to their survival, thus far, of life's hurlings...

Do not run out of Arnicare gel; especially if you have kids. Or if you're accident-proned.

Arnicare helps bruises heal quickly. So the bruise-pride soon turns into "look how fast this went away" pride.

Lately, The Huz has been wading into MineCraft with the 14 year old boy. Sometimes I can hear them shouting to each other...

"AAAGH! Help! There's zombies!! What do I do??!?"

"TP to me Dad! Teepee to me now!!"

"AAAAAAAGH I'M GOING TO DIE! HELP ME HELP ME HEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEE!!"

"Sorry Dad, I can't help you. You're just going to have to die."

I'm not sure Arnicare works on egos.

Heads up! Boiron Canada and Boiron USA  sponsored the blog-tour for my book, The LAST Snowman, and that was super nice of them. 

What are your "miraculous healing" stories?

PS. The Huz says he's not actually worried about getting eaten by zombies in MineCraft.

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How to check for pinWORMS.

WARNING: Yeah, well if you don’t already have kids you may never want them after you read this. 

A couple of years ago an old friend of mine came to town with his three year old son. He was newly divorced and just wrapping his head around parenting by himself week-on/week-off. They stayed with us cuz we’re fairly close, having grown up together.

After dinner, all our kids had their baths and we started to put them to bed.

“Daddy! My bum is itchy!”

My friend's son was squirming all around and trying to give his lil’ bot-bot a good scratching inside his pyjamas.

I said to my friend, “Maybe the boy has worms?”

“NO WAY!” His response was immediate and full of certainty. “I checked, and there’s NO worms. My kid is CLEAN. And perfect in every way.”

Hmmm. Ok, but the boy was plainly suffering from something, and apparently had been suffering for weeks months quite some time.

So I put it to my friend that maybe he needed to check again.

The little boy stopped his squirming and his daddy ‘checked’ by merely glancing at his son’s bumhole.

I’m like, “Dude, that’s not how you check for pinworms! You need to really look.”

My friend slowly turned towards me. I watched his expression morph from confusion to fear, fear to horror, and horror to intense pleading.

“Sheesh! Alrighty," I caved, "I'll show you how, but no matter what you see, it’s super important not to react with disgust. You must remain calm”. He nodded.

I went and got towel, a flashlight and a magnifying glass. I explained to the little boy that there might be some tiny worms living inside his bum and that was tickling him when they wiggled around. I asked him to just lie there all relaxed on the towel and then push, as if he was going to do a poo. He loved that idea. I trained the flash light on the little pinkie and told him to go for it.

Note: This is what you might see if you were a pinworm.

The kid was amazing! He pushed until he was red in the face, giggling the whole time. His father and I looked on through the magnifying glass.

“C'mon push! Just a little more…”

And there it was: The Seething White Mass…

My friend was looking very pale indeed but he said nothing.

His boy wanted to see one of the worms – so we took one on a tissue to show him. He was fascinated by this tiny white wriggler that had come out of his bumhole. But we told him that those worms didn’t belong in his bum and he had to have some medicine to make them leave. So we put the tissue in the loo and let him flush it away.

I washed my hands, put the boy back in the bath and sent my friend to the pharmacy to get medicine for pinworms. He was there and back in record time.

But he was walking kinda funny.


UPDATE - August 23, 2013.
This post was honored with a Voice Of The Year Award at BlogHer '13. Queen Latifah was the emcee (she totally photobombed me backstage) ...and this is me reading the story in front of thousands of people:


Now go wash your hands.

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The Tinkle FAIRY!

Meet Kim, inspired blogger at MentallyInked.com and also known on Twitter as @MentallyInked. I've been following Kim since I first got on Twitter, like two years ago. She always makes me laugh, and she's the kind of friend who won't hesitate to give you a virtual Heimlich if you should choke on something on the internet. It can happen, right? Also if you need to be reminded to drink water, Kim will help you out.

There's a lotta reasons to drink water. I don't know them off by heart but I do know that it keeps me hydrated, keeps the headaches at bay, and keeps the plumbing moving along as it should. We're pretty lucky to have access to clear, clear drinking water, on tap. Not everyone does.

But if you drink a lot of water, there will be consequences...you will have to go pee. And so Kim has an alter ego: The Tinkle FAIRY.

Dear Kim,
In recognition of the work that you do, I want to thank you by drawing you TWICE. Because:

1. I love you, even if you've never tried Orangina. 
2. You are helping people in need.
3. You have a cool knickname.
4. Whenever someone tinkles, they will think of you. And that makes you kind of like a celebrity.

So there you have it folks! If you know about why people should drink H2O, or any tips on not getting caught too far from a toilet, please share here!

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