Cougar Suit Christmas

It's Christmas Eve and I am preparing to load the car and spend the evening with my family. I will be wearing a fleece cheetah print onsie...we decided to have a pajama party this year. For 31 years, I have carefully picked out my Christmas Eve attire, and every year I have changed into comfortable clothes as soon as possible. We stuff ourselves with food and suddenly the nice skirt, dress, slacks, etc are more like medieval corsets trying to squeeze the last bit of substance from abdomen. So, why not just start the evening right? Hideous onsie PJs?

Another thing I have noticed today is that our Christmas tree appears to have vomited. There are piles of "things" wrapped in festive holiday paper coming from every part of our tree. It's unbelievable and a little disconcerting. Christmas is different than it was years ago. I can honestly say that there is not much that I want. I don't need or desire gifts. But, I do enjoy getting gifts for others. I like my rule: most gifts should be items that the person has no idea they want or need. It frustrates me when I get "stuck" on someone and can't decide on a good gift. The back up plan is always a gift card, but even then I hate buying obvious gift cards so I search for unique cards. Ultimately, I really just like spending the evening with my family. I enjoy the environment now that all of my siblings and cousins are adults, and so far there aren't any little babies crawling around. I like my cousins and brothers and all of the significant others that come along.

Christmas also makes me more pensive than usual. Weighing heavy on my mind today is one of lives' biggest quandaries. Why was I chosen to live a comfortable life? Why do I have Christmas tree vomit in my living room? A warm house? Spoiled dogs? A great family? People who love me? More "things" that I need? America's freedom? Freedom from a Burka? The list is long. I'm grateful for sure, but I could have just as easily been born to a young single mother in an African village without clean drinking water.

So, whatever the reason for my luck, I am so thankful. Now I am going to proudly wear my cougar suit out for a relaxing eve with my favorite people.

Death in an Elevator

I spend a lot of time in elevators. I should use the stairs more often but sometimes I just want to lean on the elavator wall and "rest" for just a moment. Observing the behavior of others is entertaining, and clearly not everyone has been taught appropriate elevator etiquette. It really is more fun than people watching in the airport, which is not as accessible as it was before 9/11.

Today, I was sure that I met my killer in the M.O.B (medical office bldg) elevator. It was a man about 6 feet tall and 200 pounds. I became aware of his presense in the parking garage and for some reason I made a mental note to watch him. I guess my sympathetic nervous system kicked in and I was ready for "fight or flight". There was no obvious reason that my neurons should start firing. He was rather ragged but not in a dirty way. He wore leather and carried a bag with a skull drawn in silver puff paint. His hair was short and had the beginnings of a full beard. All in all, nothing obviously out of the ordinary. Yet, he concerned me.

I normally try to choose my elevator wisely, always looking for the one with the least amount of fellow riders. Today was my lucky day, I got on an empty elevator and prepared for 7 floors of shut eye. But, with only a few inches left before the door closed completely a hand shot through the space and a gruff voice yelled, "hold the door". I didn't hold the door, I rarely do. He made it in anyways. It was the man from the garage. A sort of 6th sense swept over me and I was convinced that I was going to die at the hands of this man. Obviously, I wasn't killed. The man didn't even look at me.

I don't think that I am a paranoid person. I am always VERY aware of my surroundings but I think that is just because I am street smart. I see a lot of shit in my job and at my hospital that has desensitized me to some terrible things. So, why was I filled with paranoia today? Perhaps it is because I have spent the last 4 days reading crime/mystery novels and watching conspiracy type movies?

Radiation Beak

It has been more than 48 hours since I developed a classified super power! It is different than I expected. I was convinced that I would go about my conventional daily routine with nothing more than the occasional memory that I was now different. Of course, I planned on spending my at home time in quarantine so as not to wreak havoc on the functioning thyroids of my family members, dogs included. However, I did not expect to feel guilty with possibly tainting those poor souls who happened to enter my 3 foot force field of gamma rays. So I took my special pill and ran a few errands. I found myself purposefully catching my reflection in mirrors and glass , as if I would suddenly see a neon glow around my body. Most unforeseen was the strong amount of guilt I began to experience. Did I now possess a super power that was capable of sabotaging the health of others? Was I walking biological warfare? I didn't deliberate about this idea long, rather I went immediately home and into quarantine. I even turned a blind eye to the jumping and yipping of my excited dogs.

I am gamma beak! (Beak?? you just have to know me) I haven't detected an unusual glowing but I keep looking! I am expecting my tears or saliva to light up like a yellow glow stick. Radiation is a peculiar medical treatment, in that I don't feel any different, but I have 10 days of rules to follow in order to limit radiation exposure to others. Eventually, I might get a sore throat, which I will welcome. It will do more to convince me that I didn't actually swallow a sugar pill. 48 hours and counting in quarantine. It has made me think, mostly about solitary confinement as a form of torture or punishment. 

I recently watched a documentary on solitary confinement in prisons and I was left with a sense of disgust. I couldn't believe that human beings were put into a dark room, alone, with NO human contact for years! We are social creatures from birth. We require interactions with other humans to develop normally. Studies performed with monkeys have shown us that social isolation following birth can cause a state of shock characterized by autistic like behaviors: clutching oneself and rocking. Brain EEGs (the test where a bunch of electrodes are hooked up to your head) have shown diffuse slowing after just one week in solitary confinement. This can be likened to the type of slowing seen on EEGs of people who have delirium. In fact, the brain of a man held in solitary confinement has been compared to one that has suffered traumatic brain injury. Solitary confinement can be devastating to one's ability to regulate emotions.  Prisoners have reported "losing their minds", hallucinations, intense aversion to sounds, obsessive compulsive behaviors, and panic. Studies have shown that up to 90% of men held in solitary confinement develop irrational anger. Even more horrifying was the realization that many of these men (yes, almost all are men) are released from prison, into the free world, immediately after spending countless years in solitary confinement. Upon release, they are frequently unable to organize their lives, appropriately interact with others and it is almost guaranteed that they will end up back in prison and solitary. Sadly, America LOVES solitary confinement and previous attempts to regulate this practice have failed. Torture is clearly legal in America!

Obviously my quarantine is nothing like solitary confinement, but even 2 days away from people and my dogs has made me tired and sad. Only one more full day and I will be free....mostly.