Pain Management

Several people have asked me how I do it. How do I keep smiling and positive through the pain? Honestly, it’s not always easy. In fact, some day it’s near impossible. On those days I have a number of strategies that help me get through.

Reader’s Digest had it right. ‘Laughter is the Best Medicine’. And that is so true. There is nothing like a good belly laugh to break the cycle of pain in your brain. Therefore, I try to inject humour wherever and whenever I can and I really appreciate others who can do that too.

I remember a time that I was chatting online with a friend. It was a particularly bad day. I typed that I wanted to chop off my leg! This girl did not miss a beat. She told me to do it in the bathtub and make sure I put down a drop cloth to keep the blood contained. The thought of actually doing that was so absolutely ridiculous that I burst out laughing. That’s all it took to break the cycle of pain in that moment. It didn’t seem quite so bad after that.

The main key to pain management is to keep your mind occupied with something other than the pain. I’ve been known to randomly recite nursery rhymes and hum or sing little bits of obscure songs. One day a co-worker asked me if I realized what I was humming. I had to stop and think about it for a second before I realized it was ‘It Ain’t Easy to be Green’ by Kermit the Frog. Seriously, I could not make this up.

Having a hobby you enjoy can be a great escape from ‘reality’. For me, it is paper crafting. I make artist trading cards, junk journals, greeting cards, tags, etc. many of them to swap with friends. It takes a lot of my concentration and puts me in the ‘Zone’ where everything else falls to the background including the pain. And getting ‘happy mail’ from a friend will make the world a better place every time.

Since I’m still working full-time that keeps my mind active from Monday to Friday 8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. I’m entering orders, talking to customers and solving problems as they arise. All these things keep me going when others would simply give up but I refuse to let ‘it’ defeat me.

Like I said before, it is not always easy but along with the medication prescribed by my doctor and occasionally my trusty heating pad, I manage to live my best life in difficult circumstances. You can do it too. I try to remember that there are people in this world in worse places or situations than me. I have a roof over my head, clothes to wear and food in my belly. I’m gainfully employed, have friends to support me and a family always willing to help me. I’m very blessed.

I Do Not Like Pain

It hurts. Some days it hurts a LOT! It hurts to stand. It hurts to sit. It hurts to walk. (There is no running anymore.) It hurts to get into bed. It hurts to get out of bed. It hurts to BE in bed. My younger self could never have imagined this level of pain.

I’m not telling you all this to gain sympathy or make you feel sorry for me. I only want to pass along a bit of wisdom and advice that I’ve learned on this journey. I hope it helps you on yours.

As you get older, you tend to think that you can do all the things you could do when you were young. That is a huge fallacy! Yet you keep pushing yourself anyway. Let me reassure you that doing that is a BAD idea! You are only making things worse for yourself. Listen to the clues your body is giving you. Heed the warning signs before it is too late. Don’t be stubborn like I was.

I fell way too many times before I would admit to myself that maybe I should use the walker that had been sitting in my car virtually unused for a couple of years. I had to come to the understanding that it was not admitting defeat but an acknowledgement that I have limitations. It’s a reality that I’ve had to accept and adapt to whether I like it or not.

Here is another vital lesson that took a while to sink in. There is no shame in asking for help when you need it. This was a tough one for me as I’ve always been a fairly independent person. I would struggle away on my own, typically hurting myself more for my efforts. Now I ask for help more than I might like to but I know it is the best course of action. It’s not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of strength.

People who knew better than me kept telling me that 90% of pain management is in your head. I’ve come to realize how true that statement is. It’s how you ‘frame it’ in your mind. I could be miserable and cantankerous every single day but that will not make things better for me. And it certainly would be unpleasant for all those around me too. I had to decide who wins this battle, me or the pain? The answer is clear…ME. I choose to be happy in spite of it.

Drugs and alcohol might provide temporary respite but that is a slippery slope to get on. The more you take, the more you need to get the same level relief. It’s a losing battle. Learn to live your best life even in the face of constant pain. It’s possible, believe me. Take your prescribed medication as instructed by your doctor, nothing more. And one final bit of advice. Don’t try to be a hero. You are not doing yourself any favours.

Heather Honey Muffins

I used to bake all the time when my boys were children. I’d make cookies and muffins for their school lunches every week. Even at a young age, they seemed to appreciate my efforts. And, yes, I did enjoy some of the ‘fruits of my labour’ too.

I recently found my favourite muffin recipe in a pile of old papers. It is something that I used to make all the time. I originally found this recipe many, many years ago in a magazine, not even sure which one at this point. It may have been Canadian Living. The last bit of the instructions are long gone but I'm sure most of you can figure it out.

What I particularly liked about this one was the fact that I could finely grate carrots to put in the mixture and the boys never knew. You had to get vegetables in them anyway you could. As a side note, I shredded carrots to put in my homemade spaghetti sauce too and they never realized it. I eliminated the raisins in the recipe because I dislike raisins in anything: cookies, muffins, rice pudding, etc. I do like eating raisins on their own though. Weird, I know.

I don’t bake anymore for a number of reasons. The boys have grown up and moved out, the lack of time or energy while working full-time, and the fact that I came to realize in my late 30’s that I have an intolerance to wheat. That is the biggest single reason I stopped baking. I don’t even have all-purpose flour in the house now.

If I eat wheat, I have an asthma attack. If I don’t eat wheat, I don’t have an asthma attack. I decided that I like breathing more than I like wheat. Not a difficult choice but a difficult transition. At the time, there were not many alternatives, like there are these days.

I hope some of you give this recipe a try. Let me know how it goes. Do you like them as much as I used to?

Here Comes Bruce!

My grandmother (my mom’s mother) loved birds. She had multiple bird feeders in her yard that she diligently kept full at all times. She loved watching them and identifying them. There wasn’t a local bird that she did not know.

She would have really laughed at the cardinal (we named him Bruce) that lives in the cedar hedge by my front window. Every day (and I mean EVERY day) he flies into the window about 30+ times. He doesn’t hit it very hard, not enough to hurt himself at any rate. Then he struts along the window ledge like he is the greatest thing since sliced bread. I suppose he is trying to impress his mate with his ability to defend her from that ‘other’ bird he sees in the window. This bird is nuts! I know where the expression 'bird brain' comes from now though.

The cats initially were highly entertained by the spectacle, often trying to ‘get’ him through the glass. They never could, of course. Sometimes I even felt that Bruce was deliberately taunting them. These days, by the expression on their faces, they are thinking, ‘Is that dumb bird at it again?’ For the most part they ignore him now. You can only watch reruns so many times before you get bored of them.

Honestly, if some guy tried to 'impress' me by basically bashing himself into his own reflection multiple times every day, I would get away from him as fast as possible, wouldn't you?

Winter Survival

Have you ever wondered how our pioneer ancestors survived the cold, harsh winters without central heating? We live in our comfortable homes in the modern era with heat and air, and if we get cold, all we have to do is crank up the temperature.

Most of our pioneer ancestors built log homes and used moss or clay between the logs as insulation. The main source of heat was a fireplace or stove and this often only kept the main living area warm. If they had them, families may hang fur or textiles against the walls as an added layer of protection against the cold and wind. Children would sleep 2-3 to a bed piled high with quilts and wool blankets to preserve heat. In bitter conditions, some people stayed in bed as much as possible in order simply to stay warm.

Layering clothing, made of wool or cotton, was crucial. During the winter months, fires were rarely allowed to die. This means lots of back-breaking hours cutting and storing firewood before winter. Our ancestors were certainly tough, no doubt about it, but we would be wise to pay attention and learn a few of their survival skills. You never know when that knowledge will come in handy.

For example, let’s talk about this week at work. One of the coldest weeks so far this winter and the heating system in our main office area went down. The landlord finally showed up, checked out the system and advised us that if it was not totally shut down, carbon monoxide fumes will be coming inside. Not a good situation at all.

To add insult to injury, the needed part to fix the system is on backorder. It might be 4-5 weeks before they can get it. I was wearing layer upon layer of clothing, had a heating pad on my chair under my butt, a scarf around my neck and a fleece blanket over my legs. And I was often still cold. Cold and arthritis are not good friends. My pain levels were escalating.

We got a couple of heavy duty space heaters and they helped a lot but next week is supposed to be even colder than this one. I sure hope they were wrong about how long it would take to get the needed part to fix it.

The Next Best Thing

Since my childhood Barbie is long gone, I went looking to see if I could find a reproduction American Girl Barbie to ‘replace’ mine. I found one on eBay from a seller named vintageatstonecottage.

I ordered the doll in early January, and surprisingly she arrived just 10 days later from the U.S. before the original estimated time of arrival. I am absolutely thrilled and delighted with her! The doll is very close to the one I had all those years ago.

She was packaged in what appears to be a custom Kraft box and carefully wrapped in bubble wrap. The box was taped very securely too. Included was a hand written note from the seller.

Of course, this doll will never replace my vintage doll in value or sentiment but she certainly passes as the ‘next best thing’.

It's Taco Time!

My granddaughter and I love tacos. She prefers soft tacos but I prefer the hard shells. We have tacos at least once a month. I generally cook up enough meat for us to get a couple of meals out of it, and maybe a snack or two.

About four years ago, there was a promotion advertised on the packages. Send in X number of UPC codes from specially marked boxes and you could get a free taco scarf. I showed it to my granddaughter.

‘You’re not going to get it, are you?’ she asked. I raised my eyebrows and smiled. I did not hear a question, I heard a challenge. So naturally, I ordered one. When it arrived, I proudly showed it to her.

‘You’re not going to actually wear it, are you?’ she queried. Once again, I did not hear a question, I heard a challenge. I smiled sweetly and all she could do was roll her eyes. She knew that I was going to wear it. And I do wear it every day when the weather is cold, to this very day.

Christmas Decorations

It’s time to put the holiday décor away for another year. Not that I had a lot out to speak of. We have not put up a regular Christmas tree for more years than I can remember. My mother was the one who went all out for the holidays, even going as far as dressing all her ‘play dolls’ in seasonal outfits. It must have taken her a whole day to get them all dressed up around the house. They provided her with a lot of pleasure, you could tell.

For the last couple of years I have been putting out a small ceramic tree that lights up. My mother gave me this one before she passed away. I remember when these were quite the fad in the late 1970s and early 1980s.

Back then, the trees were often handmade in ceramics shops (ceramic crafts were very popular at the time), and painted in a variety of colors, styles, and textures. People could learn how to paint their own ceramics at local shops. Once fired in the kiln, the colourful plastic ‘lights’ were added to the trees and the electrical connection for the light bulb inside put in place. As time went on the ceramics industry and the hobby of painting ceramics declined like trends often do.

It seems, however, that ceramic Christmas trees have recently made a comeback as people look to recreate the Christmases of their childhoods. You can find them at Canadian Tire, Walmart and Amazon to name a few. These are all commercially made now though and lack the charm of a handmade tree.

The other special item to be tucked away until next Christmas is a lovely holiday outfit my mother made for Barbie. The top of the dress and the hat were crocheted by her while the skirt is a lovely holiday fabric. The ensemble was embellished with ribbon, lace and artificial flowers. I only recently found this outfit while looking for something else. It was proudly displayed on a shelf this past Christmas and will be every year from now on.

My mother had doll outfits for practically every season or holiday you could think of…Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Halloween/Thanksgiving, spring, summer, autumn and winter. How I sometimes wish that I had all her dolls and outfits now. Unfortunately, after she passed away her husband (not my father) denied me any of her things. It’s a long, ugly story that I won’t get into. I’ve had to learn to accept that I will never see them again.

Let’s Talk About Gift Baskets

Over the holidays, I received two chocolate gift baskets. The first one I won in a draw at our company holiday gathering. The second one was gifted to us by our next door neighbour.

While I admire how beautiful they look and the time it took to put them together, they are absolute torture to deconstruct. Multiple layers of tape and rubber cement make it quite challenging. I’m sure it must be easier to get into Fort Knox than it is to deconstruct these things!

In total it took me about an hour to get the two of them apart. And the funny thing is I’m not a real fan of chocolate. I kept one item out of the first basket and the rest I gave away. I will likely take most of the second one to work to ‘share’ with my co-workers. I'm sure that they will be more than happy to indulge in them. *smile*

Doll Collecting Journey

My doll collecting journey began in the mid 1980’s. It took many twists and turns over the years, from Ashton-Drake porcelain dolls to Ginny, Madame Alexander, Barbie and Leeann dolls. With two boys and two cats, the porcelain dolls did not seem like a good option after a couple of years so I moved on to the others.

I remember prior to one Christmas I saw a doll that I REALLY wanted in a local gift shop. Every time I walked past that store with my boys, I pointed it out and mentioned how much I would love to have it. When the boys were in school one day, I went in and purchased it. I gave it to my mother for the boys to give me as a present. On Christmas morning, they proudly regaled the story of how they had made their grandma go to that store and buy it for me. I smiled, knowing full well that I had picked it up myself. It was so cute how they invented that whole story though. It still makes me smile today.

In the late 1980’s Mattel started to bring out ‘collectible’ Barbie dolls starting with the Christmas series. That is when my focus went back to Barbie, mostly because purchasing dolls from the U.S. with the exchange rate and shipping cost became too much to sustain. Ironically, my mother who was so against such a voluptuous and curvaceous doll in the beginning started collecting Barbie too and ended up having more of them than me. Dolls of the World, special anniversary editions, and ultimately vintage reproduction Barbie dolls all graced the shelves in her ‘doll room’. Yes, she had a doll room.

Sadly, none of those dolls were given to me by her husband (not my father) after she passed away in 2018. They were all in pristine condition, never removed from the boxes. He foolishly believed he had a gold mine and could sell them all and become rich. Little did he know that most of them were not true collectible dolls and were worth only a fraction of their original purchase price. A true collectible has a limited production run and is numbered. These dolls were made in the hundreds of thousands and sold all over the world. I guess the last laugh is on him.

I was delighted when I discovered Leeann dolls. The designer and maker of the dolls is Canadian, Denis Bastien. I sold a number of my ‘collectible’ Barbie dolls to make room for Leeann and friends. This is how I discovered how little I could get on the secondary market for them. I did not liquidate them all though. They are packed in boxes in the storage room for now. As I am clearing out a lot of accumulated stuff around here, I will be bringing them back out.

Making Doll Clothes

In the early 1960’s, there was a thriving cottage industry employing homemakers with time on their hands while the children were in school to cut out, sew and package doll clothes for local department stores like Woolworth’s and Kresge’s to sell. It was a great way for stay-at-home mothers to supplement the family income. My mother was one of those women.

The pre-cut fabric pieces were picked up by my mother from a home not far from our house in Richmond Hill, along with thread, trims, dome fasteners and instructions, which she sewed into finished pieces for various size dolls including Barbie and Tammy. The women received payment by the completed piece and they went to that home every Thursday to drop them off and a new stack ready to be sewn was picked up. Next the completed doll clothes went to the packagers who put them in cellophane bags and printed cardboard toppers were stapled on the top making them ready to deliver to stores.

Even as a child, I thought that some of the fabric selections were ‘interesting’, if not downright odd. But any child with a bit of change in their pocket could go to the store and pick out a new, unique outfit for their doll. They were much less expensive than the factory made clothes manufactured by the doll companies, and the preferred option for many parents on a tight budget. And the children were happy.

As the doll companies found ways to lower the production cost of their factory made clothes, the local cottage industry went by the wayside as it was no longer profitable for them.

Of course, virtually all of my doll clothes were homemade which I kind of resented at the time as some of my friends had factory made clothes for their dolls. Now, I am much more appreciative of the time and love that went into making them for me. I sure wish I still had that box of items my mother made but they were tossed out or given away long ago.