The Disease of Self-Importance

I haven't blogged in a while, mainly because not much new has been going on at my house. We get up, get kids to school, get significant other (further known as SO) to work, and I come home and do what I can around here to lessen everyone's burden since I'm still mostly out of commission. My doctor did lift my 10-pound restriction to a 20-pound one however, and then he told me I was gaining weight. I looked at him with that 'duh' expression that comes when someone overstates the obvious. My only response was 'well I guess that's normal since I'm not BARFING all of the time'. He backed off the exercise/obesity lecture at that point, which is good. It's not like 6 weeks after brain surgery you can thrust on into major cardio. Sheesh. Hello Common Sense, where are you??!!

But this is all just a lead-in to what I really wanted to write about. I realized while I was down in said- metropolitan area with said-fabulous neurosurgeon, and while watching my SO drive there, that everyone on the roads has a serious case of the disease of self importance. It's rather astounding. On the roads, people cut you off and drive even more aggressively than in OTHER much more major metropolitan areas I've lived. It's like their journey is much more important than yours. I also saw that same behavior in stores, grocery markets, and even in the drive-thru at Starbucks, where the people where just insane and very unsafe. So here I am, in this city supposedly known for it's nice people and solid morality, and I watch those very same people act like asses at every turn. It left me wondering.....where do people contract the disease of self importance and why isn't there more attention being paid to a cure?

I'm ashamed to say that it's part my generation (X) and the following generation (Y) who are to blame for this pandemic spread. I not only see it in urban areas, but in rural ones too, where people will sit in the middle of an aisle and block it while chatting with a neighbor/friend/teacher/etc.  instead of moving their convo to the side so others can get through, or where people will literally run you over with their carts while trying to hit the freebie samples at the Costco on Saturday.

I say it's our two generations because honestly, my parents didn't teach me to act like this.  They taught me to respect others, and that the Golden Rule reigned supreme. And this was coming from un-religious people; not people ate up with quoting the Bible. It was just common sense - on the spinning wheel of life, you get back what you give. Yet somewhere along my journey, I realize that I, too, have become infected with a lesser case of self-importance syndrome. I will drive aggressively, especially when I'm home in D.C. I will put my needs above other people's at times, especially if it involves members of my family. And look at me here, blogging...sending MY thoughts out into the intar-webz instead of picking causes worthy of talking about. You know, it's funny....,I don't even realize I'm self-centered until I stop for a few minutes. Then suddenly, the realization hits me. Life is too much about ME and not enough about OTHERS who really need the attention and help, or maybe need to get passed me in the grocery aisle.

So in the end, I think the cure for this disease is remembering the Golden Rule, which frankly every belief set, excluding maybe atheism, has a version of: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Or similarly, Treat others like YOU want to be treated. There's no guarantee they will treat you that way, but at least you sent your positive help out into space - and in-so-doing, you defeated the disease of self-importance.

Halloween @ Casa de Walden (complete with a flirty 6 year old)

It's unreal how much fun my children (of all ages!) have at Halloween. They just love it! This year I had a Mario, a Flower Fairie, A Vampire/Devil, and a Grumpy Teenager. The girls went trick-or-treating with friends, so Mario (my youngest, J2) got his mum all to himself, which he seemed to greatly enjoy.

So we took Mario to the dorms at one of the local colleges that does a big trick or treating/haunted house production. It was amazing - 4 floors of cute freshman girls dressed up and handing out candy! My little J2 (he's 6) was the biggest flirt I''ve ever seen - and as a result he scored so much candy, he couldn't eat it all in a lifetime. My disgruntled teenager, who handed out candy at our house, was very sad he missed the opportunity to wander the girls' dorm of course...but he watched 'Dawn of the Dead' so apparently that made up for it - sorta. Teenagers are so weird.

My poor flower fairie had a great time trick or treating, but it ended up haunting her (no pun intended!). She ate so much candy while out wandering that she actually got physically sick! While it was a great lesson to my other kids that too much candy really will make you sick, she was worshiping the porcelain bowl for the better part of 1/2 an hour. Poor kid. Once she finally finished, she felt much better of course, but still...what a way to end a night!!

So besides the flirting, puking, walking, watching zombie movies, and trying to clean off tons of face make-up, it was a great night!! Talking to neighbors and fellow residents of the smallish town I live in, as well as enjoying watching other parents and kids, and chatting with them - it's just not something that happen every day. This is why I love Halloween - while some call it a pagan holiday and encourage Christians to stay away from it, I think the bigger benefit is repeatedly missed. While some like the gore and fear involved, most of us just really enjoy one of the few days of the year that we get to enjoy our community, and relate to it and others in it in a way we normally don't get to. People who wouldn't normally talk and enjoy each other get a chance to break down social walls and chat. Little people get to feel a sense of community and safety as they go to different homes and see that behind the doors, people are kind and really do enjoy the opportunity to see those costumes, smiles, and joy when they say 'trick-or treat'. So while I love all holidays, Halloween is one of my favorites.

Here's to Life, Liberty and the Ability to Once Again Move One's Neck

So as my real-life friends (and family of course!) know, I'm recovering from brain surgery.

Yes, you read that right, I said BRAIN surgery. When you read it, imagine one of those horrible zero-star Sci-Fi movies with zombies mumbling 'Brrraaaayyyyyynnnnzzzz'. Yeah, you got it.

Ok, back from my attention-deficit moment...so I had brain surgery in September to fix a congenital abnormality in the back of my skull called an Arnold-Chiari Malformation. Essentially what the problem deals with is the space in the back of the head for what is referred to as the 'hind brain'. Think back to Biology 101 or High School Bio when you learned about the Cerebellum. My kids call it 'brain broccoli' because, well, it looks a little like broccoli on MRI or CT scan. The lower part of the Brain Broccoli begins to get squished down the hole in the bottom of the skull that the spine comes up through (the Foramen Magnum). The more squished it gets, the more it cuts off cerebra-spinal fluid flow around the brain and spinal cord, causing all sorts of GREAT symptoms (let me just name a few):

1. Headaches that start at the back of the head and shoot forward behind the eyes. These are often mistaken for migraines, which is what happened in my case.

2. Chronic Fatigue Syndrome - is exactly as it sounds. You are always tired. But not just any tired; we're talking joint-aching exhaustion that lasts every waking moment. Often, this looks like Rheumatoid Arthritis or Fibromyalgia.

3. Random Onset, Increasingly Intense Anxiety that laughs in the face of Zanex or most other anxiety drugs. (This is usually caused by that lovely misplaced brain broccoli pushing up against or rubbing on the brain stem)

4. Restless Leg Syndrome - At night, this is when the legs get random nervous system sensations that feel like shocks running up and/or down your legs. It often is treated with drugs like Neurontin or Lyrica and can be associated with Fibromyalgia or just on it's own.


Now these are just FOUR of the 25+ symptoms that go along with having a Chiari Malformation. Most symptoms don't show until you are in adulthood, and often are misdiagnosed for years until someone thinks to do an MRI. Up until recently, the treatment was, once an MRI was done, the radiologist and your ordering doc would determine how big the Chiari is and then decide if it needs evaluation by a neurosurgeon or anti-inflammatory treatment. However this, fortunately, is changing. What neurosurgeons are now finding is that it doesn't matter how far down the hole the brain broccoli has slipped - it only matters how it is affecting your cerebra-spinal fluid flow and how symptomatic it leaves you. If your CSF is cut off or limited, its surgery-city....but by that point you'd welcome the surgery because frankly the symptoms are miserable and you are probably going to be sick of doctors misdiagnosing you or playing 'guess that diagnosis' like you are some kind of rat in a lab.

In my case, my cerebellum had herniated almost 8mm down into my Foramen Magnum. I was sick (think 'admitted to the hospital or being seen in the ER everyday' sick) for 6 months. Finally, we saw a neurosurgeon at the University of Utah who does about 250 Chiari decompression surgeries a year. Dr. Schmidt was fabulous. He reviewed the various digital imagery and said, without a doubt, the shape of my skull was causing problems and I needed the surgery. So 3 weeks later, they did their magic in the Operating Room, and I came out with a super sore neck (of all things!!!) and no more headaches, exhaustion, minimal anxiety, and reduction in the other dozen or so symptoms I had.

Some may wonder why I'm writing about this. Well, for a bunch of reasons honestly. One - I blog for myself, which might disappoint some of the readers (haha) , but more importantly, because Chiaris go undiagnosed or underestimated by at least 1 in 5000 people. Some studies show it could even be as often as 1 out of every 1000 people. So these people suffer in silence with ever-increasing symptoms, diagnosed with disease processes they don't have, or dealing with doctors who think they are hypochondriacs and drug seekers. Plus, to be honest, I've read a ton of blogs where people have the surgery and then do nothing to move forward, which in turn causes different problems. My hope is that even one person reads this and is empowered to get checked out, or demand good rehabilitative care after surgery so their quality of life improves.

Having said that, the ability to move my neck refers to the fact that you come out of surgery barely being able to move your neck due to how they get in to fix you. I am lucky; my neurosurgeon told me prior to surgery that my neck was going to be a mess, and that physical therapy was mandatory starting in week 3. I'm at week 5 (almost 6) now, and the PT has helped exponentially. I have almost my total neck range-of-motion back from side to side, and I'm not nearly in the pain I was even 3 weeks ago. So if you are a fairly recent Chiari decompression patient, and your neurosurgeon didn't tell you to go get rehab/Physical Therapy, then have your regular physician write you a prescription and go get started!! Usually insurances cover it, and you'll be more than thankful you did so after you get past about week 2, I promise!!

As far as my personal recovery, I'm very blessed. Even though this surgery demands a minimal 6 month hiatus from work, I feel better than I have in YEARS. Many of my symptoms are gone, and the headaches don't plague me anymore. It's fabulous! In addition, I even managed to find my sense of humor once again, which is driving my family NUTS, so of course that makes me even happier than I would be otherwise :-)

So to summarize my rambling, if you are experiencing the symptoms I discussed, and have been diagnosed without resolution for years, ask for an MRI. You may be the 1 in 1000, who, if caught early, could experience complete resolution if you can manage to get the problem diagnosed correctly. And for those of you recovering, I have two letters for you - P.T. Otherwise, to quote Mike Myers in 'So I Married an Axe Murderer', you'll feel like your head is "...an orange on a tooooothpick"!

Curried Underwear ala Ten Year Old

Sometimes life just offers up one of those moments that you KNOW will make you laugh so hard your sides split open for years to come...however during the time when that faithful even occurs, you are left with varied emotions and none of them make you laugh. I had one of those moments tonight.

My family, like many others, is a typical nuclear-type deal. We are 6 people strong, dysfunctional as any other family, and all strong-willed and stubborn. This last trait can be clearly demonstrated by my daughter, who is ten years old, gorgeous, red-haired, and clever as a fox. If she likes something, it becomes clear immediately and she will completely engross herself in whatever-her-love-is. However, if she doesn't like something....well then, that's when life gets interesting for her poor mother (me) and her stepdad, who is still kinda new at this whole parenting gig.

On this particular occasion, my husband, who loves to cook international foods, had made a nice curry dish with veggies, chicken and a mild green curry. Not anything new to my children, as we've made it before. However, apparently on this night, my 10-year old (we'll call her A for short) didn't approve. So she did the usual maneuvers to try and avoid eating it: shoving it around on her plate, letting it get cold, whining, boo-hooing, and even filling her mouth up then running to the bathroom. We understood she wasn't a fan so we said "take a few (3) bites, and then we'll call it done" and she agreed this was okay.

Now here's where it gets good. Of course she was the last one at the table that night, so while we were all cleaning up, she decided she was going to get creative with disposal of her dinner. Since eyes were averted, she actually took her plate and dumped the curry, rice, and veggies all down her pants into her underwear. Then, after proudly proclaiming "I ate ALL of my dinner" she went to shower. Apparently everything that shouldn't have been in her underpants went down the toliet and her laundry in the pile. Situation resolved in her favor she thinks, all the way through dessert, a movie and bedtime. She must have been so proud of herself!

Well her little scheme may have worked except for one thing: I do the laundry in our house, and I pay pretty close attention to clothes for stains. So as I'm doing a white load, I notice these underpants with this horrible YELLOW stain down the front. I see they are A's and I'm thinking "What the HELL is THAT?!" I'm pretty horrified. I thought maybe she'd gotten a stomach bug and fell short of the loo....but the stain was down the FRONT of her undies. Since I know anything is possible when it comes to A, I figure it's safer if I don't even BOTHER asking what the hell she'd done to her new (no less!!) underwear. I just Oxy-cleaned them and prayed the yellow would come out.

Fast forward now to two or three weeks later where we are once again all at the dinner table. My lovely 8-year old daughter (whom we'll call K - starting to feel like I'm writing a "Men in Black" script here) starts telling us the story of A's clever disposal of her curry. A is horrified, sitting next to me, and you could tell she was just waiting for me to put the smack-down on her. But I was fascinated with what K was telling me. I honestly couldn't stop laughing....and the laughter not only grew but passed on to all of the family who were just rolling by the time K was done. A was in a blush and quietly squeeked "I really didn't like that curry that night", and that was all. Even my husband, who was a career Army officer, couldn't help but laugh. When she went to get up after dinner, we couldn't help but tease and ask her if we needed to do a check to make sure she wasn't shoving dinner down her pants. She was, in the immortal words of Queen Victoria, was NOT amused.

However, through all of this my 15 year old son, J1, had the best comment of them all. "Well it would have eventually ended up near her underpants anyways even if she had eaten it".

Priceless. And truly it's this kinda weird silly stuff that makes me love being a mom!