Friday, December 28, 2012

Gratitude Changes Your Attitude- A Year in Review

Some of my healing team after surgery
Friends to celebrate the end of summer
Fair time is part of the fun of Groutfest

  12/12/2012 at 12:12--- I liked the rhythm and rhyme of that date and truly started to write the year end encapsulation of all that I am grateful for, but obviously I didn't finish it on time. The whirlwind of Christmas with all of its preparation and expectations interfered. That is just an excuse but sadly, this date and time will never happen again in my life time. Should I care about this? Or is this yet another missed opportunity in the hallways of insignificant events? It seems like every day the media has another event that they want us to stew about. So I stayed bravely in the moment. I'd much rather just be in the moment and grateful for the real events in my life and there are plenty.

Sibs at Thanksjuning


That is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great.      Willa Cather
 Reasons to be grateful:

  1. Mr. G, me, and sisters Sally, Trisha and Kathleen gathered for a new tradition: Thanksjuning in LA with brother Bob and sister in law Senja. We had no idea how much fun Thanksgiving could be in June. An added plus was it rain constantly at home when we were in sunny LA. We're making this a new tradition and I/we are very grateful for the family we have.
  2. We had another successful and happy Groutfest in August with a good family gathering, much hilarity and great fun. More joy shared, more joy increased!
  3. I had my hip replaced [with titanium] in September and am now walking just fine with no pain. What a relief! You never know how just feeling OK is until you're out of constant pain. [One of my grandsons says he can feel the metal...] I am beyond grateful to all of the friends who brought me good cheer, food and laughter during my recovery.
  4. We got to travel to take care of our grandchildren and have riotous fun with the four of them. We are especially grateful to their parents, first of all for presenting us with these beloved creatures and secondly for indulging us with sleep overs at their houses.
  5. Mr. G retired in April and he is excellent at retirement. Never a word of complaint or wandering around not knowing what to do with himself. He manages his day in a lovely fruitful manner and is glad to be home and I cannot believe what a good nurse he is.
  6. A beaming new home owner with some of the family
  7. We got to have the other Thanksgiving at my sister's new house and it was a joyous feast for many reasons, especially that we were together sharing the joy of her new place that she graciously opened up to the family.
  8. Christmas is almost always fabulous for me and what added to the fun was the Nutcracker we attended on Christmas eve. This Maurice Sendak production was the "nutty" Nutcracker, where, in high energy fashion, the dancers got to spoof the ballet. Very funny and grand fun to be in on their jokes [snow didn't fall from above it was pelted! The ballerinas threw snowballs at each other and the orchestra].
  9. Nothing is better than watching the surprise and delight children have opening presents on Christmas morning. Our son and daughter in law really go all out making this a special time and we are privileged to enjoy it.
Many studies contend that having a readily available gratitude list can help you through your day, increase your sleep at night and give you a generally sunnier attitude. I concur.

Here's hoping that you're making your gratitude list of what you've appreciated from this year, even if you missed 12/12/12 at 12:12.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved


Tuesday, December 11, 2012

HONOR THY FATHER, HONOR THY MOTHER

We are very good at celebrations and owe this to Mom and Dad
Today would have been our parents, Bob and Jane's, 69th Wedding Anniversary. Up in the heaven of my imagination, can't you just see them dancing the fox trot with Dad cracking wise making Mom laugh? Happily for all of us, she was not only amused by him but grew to admire and love him. When first they met, he was twenty one and she twenty and Mom was initially put off by his wildness. She was working in downtown Chicago as an artist and he was in the family's Chicago restaurant and they met through mutual friends. She told him he drank too much and more or less dismissed him. The man was persistent and soon his other shining qualities won her over. He had out grown the goofy, gawky stage and his kindness, intelligence, wit and business acuity became more of a draw. Mom decided to take a chance on him and despite WWII they married on December 11, 1943. Thanks to our devoted and caring sister Trisha I have an 8 x 12 of their wedding photo hanging on our wall. Thanks again Trish!

Here are a few of us at another wonderful celebration
Growing up in the chaos of his family*, it's a semi miracle that our Dad was so loyal and true. That was certainly not the role model our paternal Grandparents projected. He must have learned faithfulness and trustworthiness from the unfaithful and the not trustworthy. Sometimes people do that, but most commonly and unfortunately they become similar and not the whole opposite of their parents. I have worked with plenty of adults that have grow up in chaotic and/or violent homes who became organized, responsible and wonderful peacemakers despite the odds against this.  Our Dad's flaws were the anxiety and that he studiously avoided conflict to the point of withdrawal in our home life. Hence the famous, "you're punished" refrain whenever Mom would ask him to help with disciplining us. For all I know, I'm still punished.

Lots of the credit for a stable home life and marriage goes to our Mother. Mom had good role models. By contrast to his chaotic upbringing [Dad chose to live with his mother who benignly neglected him] Mom's family, while not exactly peaceful [Grandpa Webster: "Florence if I say white, you say black, ..."] was stable and loving. One strike against her was she had six kids under the age of ten. Some people thrive with many children, this was not our Mom. Another reality was Dad--- though he was an excellent provider, he was fairly useless with the kids until we were old enough to work along side him. Mom managed to keep us in line, drive us to and fro, provide meals for us and copious relatives, and on rare occasions, able to produce something artistic for herself.


So, simplistically, Dad was the fun and the workhorse and Mom was the drill Sargent and the ballast for the family.

Sibs plus cousins
I seem to be skipping over all of the fun times we had as a family and there were many. Most of it centered around food, singing, the extended family, the lake and the few vacations that we took. It was/is a loving family and we have to credit Bob and Jane for creating a wonderful crew. I feel especially grateful for the transformation that Mom did after Bob died in 1987. She became funny and fun to be with, kinder and very generous. Yes, we do have a lot to honor. Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!

*see one of the early posts on Anxiet and Drinking...

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Monday, December 3, 2012

Connections: Family History and a Famous Chef




My sister and I love to go to restaurants

The two biggest sellers in any bookstore are the cookbooks and the diet books. The cookbooks tell you how to prepare the food, and the diet books tell you how not to eat any of it.                             Andy Rooney

I just finished reading Yes, Chef by Marcus Samuelsson and periodically throughout the book I was in tears. I kept saying "why am I tearing up" to myself. Many things about the book resonated and were especially meaningful to me.

Marcus Samuelsson was born in Ethiopia, a country where there is enormous deprivation and illness. He, his mother and his sister contracted TB and his mother carried him, and held his sister's hand for 75 miles to seek help for them in the hospital in Addis Ababa. Ultimately his mother died and then, improbably and fortuitously, he and his sister were adopted by a Swedish family. He grew up in the very white Sweden with a loving parents and again, most fortuitously, a kind and dear grandmother who taught him to cook. Part of the magic was he was intensely interesting in cooking or the story would have ended right there. But he was ambitions and driven to be a success to impress his very loved father and to honor his grandmother.

Mom was hostess and helped run our family restaurant



Here's some of the clues to the "why am I tearing up" question. I'm from Chicago and a big somewhat famous restaurant family. I hear other people say that about their families, but it doesn't have the same meaning. Our family's restaurants were generational.

About a century ago [1904] in Chicago, our great grandmother [Mary Nelson Ricketts from Sweden] was widowed when our great grandfather died of TB. Strapped for cash with four sons to raise she did the only thing she knew how to do and opened a restaurant. Mary called it 'Ricketts restaurant'-- how clever. The family lived above the restaurant and it became famous, for the "home of the strawberry waffle". Amazingly, Mary Ricketts did well enough with her hard work, determination and good food that she was able to start each of her sons in a restaurant of their own in the 1920's. One on Oak St., one on Rush St., one near Michigan Ave. and our grandfather John Ricketts' restaurant at 2727 N. Clark St.

In the 40's and 50's my Grandfather John advertised our Ricketts as 'Chicago's most popular restaurant'. Not sure if that's the God's own truth but it was a big fabulous place, huge, luxurious and for a long time wildly popular. In another inspired touch, since the restaurant was only two blocks from Wrigley field, they painted a sign on a rooftop that you could see all over the field that said, "Hit this sign and win $500!--- Ricketts Restaurant". In fact, no one could have possibly hit the sign, it was too far away, though it was a good optical illusion, it looked possible. In the 50 years or so that the sign proclaimed the reward, it was never collected.

Sadly my Grandfather died youngish [64 or so] of a heart attack, my father and his brother took over the restaurant in 1958. It was not all roses and sweetness, my uncle was a very troubled and difficult man, so much so that my father had a series of panic attacks which led to him eventually leaving the N. Clark St. in 1962 for a restaurant of his own in Wheeling, Il. naming it, cleverly enough 'Ricketts Restaurant'. Good thing he did move on, as the neighborhood vastly declined and his brother, John Jr. went out of business in the early sixties.

Starting his own restaurant was a gamble and an adventure. It was not unusual for my father to work fourteen hour days. Unfortunately, he continued to have panic attacks. Bottom line: restaurants are chronically tough businesses and he had six children to support. But with his hard work, determination, good food and charming personality he made a success of the business and the panic attacks eased.

Marcus Samuelsson and I are practically twins. He's Swedish by adoption, me by heritage, his mother died of TB, as did my great grandfather, he was the chef for the Obamas at their inaugural ball in 2008, I voted for and love the Obamas. He likes to cook and loves to eat and so do I. See, twins! OK, he is a world famous chef, had to struggle and work wonky hours to be successful, but I appreciate that!

I do love to cook but watching my father work the hours that he did and knowing what chefs go through to be successful never appealed to me as a career choice. Instead I 'cook' with the ingredients that the clients bring into my office. Sometimes they need more ingredients and I suggest something toothsome. Sometimes I stir the pot, I season my words heavily with just the right amount of spice to add flavor and interest to their lives. Sometimes I have to allow time for the baking process which sometime takes longer than you'd think. Ah, the end product, in truth, is something that the client and I craft together with love. All the best chefs of this world love what they're doing and so do I. That is my definition of success. Ta da.

A la familia
susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Thursday, November 15, 2012

It Is A Wonderful Life, With Luck

The influence of a beautiful, hopeful, helpful character is contagious and may revolutionize a whole town.                Eleanor H. Porter


Longing to return to Venice at night, fantasizing for myself
When I am confronted by a gloomy Gus or a hopeless Hannah in counseling I sometimes like to use other people, to broaden the scope, as the ones to emulate. If I can't think of someone real off the top of my head [and a further concern, in this small town someone who might be recognizable] I'll turn to books or the movies. Many people erroneously believe what they present in counseling are the feelings that they're 'stuck' with for life. "Untrue!", I say, "do you remember the story of "It's A Wonderful Life"? [I haven't had a "No" response yet.] Well there are many lessons from that story about how life can change. Can you think of any?" If they need their memory refreshed, they take the movie out of the library to view and then I let them ponder and report back.

Here is a partial list of the ideas from the movie that they come up with.

  1. There are disappointments, unexpected problems, deceitful people, but also good people who reward you for your ability to love and be loyal.
  2. Do what's right even if you think you may not be rewarded. Life can turn out better than you can imagine.
  3. The future is unpredictable [except that we're all gonna die...] and  life can turn out differently, sometimes sweeter. 
  4. Problems always seem darkest at night or in bad weather.
  5. Family and friends are more important than financial success.
  6. It's always a good idea to be generous, expecting nothing in return.
  7. Worrying doesn't make things better, the illusion is that you'll come up with a solution. Better to put your nose to the grindstone.
  8. It's important to tell the ones you love what your troubles and fears are.
  9. Remember to ask for help, everyone needs it sometimes.
  10. Every time a bell rings, an angel gets it's wings. [I just threw that in].
Another movie that packs an important lesson is "Life is Beautiful". Not as many people have seen this movie so I encourage them to watch it. This little film takes place in a concentration camp during WWII, a father and son are sent to the same place. Unbelievably, the father convinces the son [who is about 5 years old] that there is riotous fun in the camp.  This goes along with Viktor Frankl's book, Man's Search for Meaning [he is a Psychiatrist and a Holocaust survivor], wherein he states, "the Nazi's took everything from us, even our bodily hair, but they couldn't take our attitudes." And the movie father, in a superlative act of love, displays the most outrageous and funny attitude toward the Nazis in an effort to make his son laugh. Not only touching but reminds all of us that if we laugh/mock troubles we can survive with elan.

For a more modern movie the newest one that I believe has a good message is the delightful movie, "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel". In this movie the "geeziers" that were "outsourced" to retire in India all arrive there with very different expectations. Although  each person had something that they were expecting to happen in India, most of it didn't turn out they way they thought it would. Some better, but in very unpredictable ways. The ones that fared the best were open to the goodness of new experiences and were willing to change.

A smart sister who reaches for the light in life.


The point of all of this is, life is not predictable and it is how you handle the left curves of life that can make the difference between surviving and thriving. I'm into thriving, laughter, surprises and joy myself.

So, I always say, "why not fantasize for yourself rather than against yourself." Here is a short list on coaxing what you want to  have in your life.
  1. Get a picture of what you'd like to be or how you'd like things to be in the future.
  2. Write that sentence down as though it is happening in the present tense.
  3. Pick a date it in the future when you expect that divine sentence to become reality.
  4. Draw a picture of yourself being that future delighted person.
  5. Keep that sentence and/or picture handy and look at it daily. [I have traditionally used  3 x 5 cards since I was doing workshops in the '80's...]
  6. Live as though what you hope will occur will happen.
  7. Fantasize for yourself instead of against yourself.

This is what I've done for over thirty years and my success rate is well into the ninety percent range. Not bad. Use this above recipe for fantasizing for yourself. Makes me happy just to recall all of the success I've had with this little technique. As the old Yiddish joke goes, "it can't hurt".

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Monday, November 5, 2012

Remembering a Friend



There is a magnet in your heart that will attract true friends.  That magnet is unselfishness, thinking of others first. When you learn to live for others, they will live for you.                                                 Pramahansa Yogananda 
I had surgery several weeks ago and after my surgery the people of this community were fantastic. They dropped off dinners, books, magazines and other delights. As I mentioned Mr. G and I didn't cook a meal for three weeks. This was absolutely true for my old friends, Jim and Judy. J & J arrived on a sunny day, a week after my surgery with a Coleman cooler stuffed full of food. Judy said, "Jim made this happen." He had cooked short ribs with a rich gravy, mashed potatoes and venison chili. Judy made an apple pie and apple crisp. Such bounty! I was touched and so grateful. Then, the piece de resistance, they also brought a lunch that day for all of us. We all sat out on our deck downing delicious sandwiches, drinking sodas and talking about our old friendship of more than thirty years.

"What a treat!" I said to them and Jim said,  "I bet I win for best and most food brought to a convalescing friend". "Yes, yes, you do!" I said and laughed. Jim did win in the giving and generosity category for my convalescence. He also won for years of generous service.

Jim had a history of showing up in the thirty five years that we knew him, especially when a family member was in trouble with alcohol. Jim was right there to share his experience, strength and hope. Many years ago he told my son who was first in line for the parties, "right now you're in an elevator going down. At any time you can push the button to go back up, but the further down you go the harder it is and it takes more time." This advice was given more than twenty years ago and it still reverberates with my son.

This was a man who got excessive joy from bringing cheer to others. He could fill a room or even a store for that matter. He would walk into a store and soon have all the clerks chuckling at his lively sense of humor. His greatest joy besides his wife Judy was his daughter and his two grandsons. He lived to be 'Odie' [his nick name for Grandpa]. It is my belief if there was an Olympic medal for grand parenting he would have walked away with the gold. When I said this to his mother in law she said, "and for parenting!"

Jim died on Friday October 26 of a pulmonary embolism, unexpectedly and suddenly. We all will miss him, his hearty laugh, his generosity and his love.

 A lovely story that my friend Judy tells is that when she was living in Hawaii and Jim was in California he used to send ee cummings poems with his love letters. "That is how he courted me and won my heart," Judy said. Here is the poem that we read at Jim's memorial. To Judy from Jim, may he rest in peace Amen.

i carry your heart with me by E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me  (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it  (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me-- is your doing,  my darling)

i fear no fate
(for you are my fate, my sweet)
i want no world
(for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are-
whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud  and the sky of the sky
of a tree called life; which grows higher
than the soul  can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder   that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart  (i carry it in my heart)

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Thursday, October 25, 2012

To All the Men Out There - Free Ponies! Free Money!

We are not afraid to follow truth wherever it may lead, nor to tolerate any error so long as reason is left free to combat it.        Thomas Jefferson

I have been astonished that more males haven't seen through the veneer of the Republicans offering the pie in the sky, no specifics for their "plans" to take back the country. Indeed if they are elected-- they will take back the country, right back to the 1920's prior to women's right to vote, and to the 1950's where misogyny was accepted. They are doing this by offering the equivalent of free money! and free ponies! to all. Oh, how silly of me, this is actually true for the people who are millionaires, not for the rest of us ungrateful, lazy slobs of the 47%. We won't be taking our ponies to the Olympics anytime soon.

Why would otherwise intelligent men fall for this? I am asking you. Why? Isn't it just dopey to suggest that we increase the military budget when the military is not even requesting it? Isn't it foolish to go backwards to policies that make it impossible for the people with preexisting conditions to afford or even obtain health care? I just read in the AARP Magazine [Oct/Nov] that the health care reform policies of the Obama administration offers will reduce the nation's deficit by $210 billion dollars in the next ten years "by reducing subsidies to private insurance companies, cracking down on waste and fraud and reining in profits." Also this will help by stopping the enormous pay outs for people that are currently flooding the emergency rooms with no insurance and the inability to pay. When the truth is this: currently we all end up paying for the uninsured. Think about it.

Then there are women's reproductive rights that are on the auction block. These rights certainly affect men and families. It is a grim, grim thought if Planned Parenthood is obliterated. Where will the poorest of the poor women go for birth control? Guess what? Duh, you'll see an increase in births. And further guess who doesn't want to help to pay for these blessed bundles brought to you by no access to affordable birth control? Interesting how sacred "life" is held up to all of us until the baby is actually born. Shades of Charles Dickens in the 1880's. Oliver Twist! Marie Antoinette! Let them eat cake! No too costly, let them eat surplus corn.

A woman's body can prevent pregnancy in cases of 'legitimate' rape.
Todd Akin,  Republican from Mo., sadly a member of the House Science Committee
There are in fact two things, science and opinion: the former begets knowledge, the latter ignorance.               Hippocrates, Law
To all the men reading this here's a very elementary thought: isn't what happens between a woman and her doctor private?  This is certainly true for all of you men. In my business, I hold sacred the rights of all my clients to keep whatever is said in my office in confidence. The exceptions: the client is a danger to themselves or others. An example [one that is true for counselors and doctors everywhere] is that if the client is being abused, or is suicidal or worse homicidal, then someone must be alerted. Other than that it is private, and I hold this as sacred as the priest hearing a confession. I don't repeat outside office what I've heard inside without the written permission from the client.

So, why is it OK for the politicians to be dictating to the doctors? Why is what discussed and decided upon with a women and her doctor open to political whim? Well, it's not OK ever. The right to privacy must be upheld. If that right and that trust is broken then it should be broken for any man considering a vasectomy ["every sperm is sacred" a la Monty Python] or penile enlargement, or Viagra for that matter. Do you see sweat forming on some of the lower male brows? I do, because this is a logical argument. What's good for the goose is good for the gander. Just as for a young man, any grown woman over the age of 18 has a right to privacy between herself and her doctor.

Let's connect the dots. Who, I must ask all American voters, has the babies? Who brings that baby into the world? Who earned the right to vote in 1920 through a hard fought battle? Who has tried to keep these baby givers and voters restricted? I have a hint for you, it's not the Democrats. And it's not the Democrats who have it in their platform that no abortion is allowed, even in the case of incest or rape. [Richard Mourdock from the Republican party who Romney endorsed said that "God wanted that pregnancy"].  Is this a loving, nurturing, concerned or caring platform for women or their families? Is it right to attack the victim of a rape by requiring her to carry the child of her violent abuser? Isn't this just another form of abuse? Why and how can the Republicans justify no right to privacy for a victim of rape or incest? The fact is, horribly, most of the victims of incest are under the age of sixteen. So, not allowing her to have an abortion is a form of child abuse. In essence, they are recommending child abuse in their platform. Think about it: this is almost as egregious as the sexual abuse that the little child suffered.

When an entire party agrees that abuse of girls and women is acceptable and allowable, there is a word for that---misogyny, meaning hatred of women. If, in fact, you broaden the concept to include all of the countless families that would be affected by these insensitivity's: it is misanthropy, hatred of humanity. Ain't that a kick in the head? So if you are inclined to vote for the Republicans and their platform, well, then gentlemen, fill in the blanks.

There is a solution to the above. Vote for candidates who actually like and love women. Who respect the rights to privacy for men and women. Who would never dream of taking away your grandma's or grandpa's right to vote because he/she doesn't have a driver's license and hence no photo ID.

As simplistic as this sounds, vote for your daughter's rights, vote for your mother's, your granddaughter's and your grandparent's rights. Vote to honor women, not to disrespect them. Vote to promote kindness to the sick and the struggling and their families. Do this with love and gratitude that we currently have these rights and sincerely do not want to lose them.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Sunday, October 21, 2012

I Have A Confession to Make

I have a confession to make. I AM A NASTY WOMAN. There. I said it. Seems like I have been all of my adult life. Here is proof dating back four years.

I wrote this post in 2012 and I am editing it in 2016 but only very slightly, unbelievably the Republican party is backing a misogynist. Today, you might have heard, Hillary R. Clinton is running for office. Sadly, many women still haven't gotten the message that this would be a good thing for women, families and children everywhere. As for the comments about various religions what require head garb I could really care less, I do strongly care about is that all women have rights that are human rights and are educated everywhere and not ever subjugated anywhere. In peace and in love vote. HRC is a excellent choice.
Woman as warrior: Joan of Arc
Don't underestimate how much antagonism there is toward women and how many people wish they could turn the clock back. One of the things people always say to you if you get upset is, don't take it personally, but listen hard to what's going on and please, I beg you, take it personally."                             Nora Ephron

When the Ayatollah Khomany came into power in the late nineteen seventies he convinced the women of his country to embrace the veil, renounce many of their rights, be subservient to men and even allow nine year old little girls to be forced into marriage. He did this trick by claiming that it would be a rebellion from the Shah's regime. The women of Iran, in great numbers bought that argument [and are still buying it]. Unbelievably they agreed to turn back the clock. How tragic that they didn't remember or honor that their own mothers and grandmothers fought [and some died] to finally, defiantly, throw off the veil in the 1920's.

Sadly, this is relevant today. No matter how much we joke about what the Republican candidate is saying about women: calling them farm animals, sexually assaulting them and worse exhibiting contempt and disdain really this is no joke at all. We are trying to raise children here that have respect for all humans and by god this includes women. Guess he didn't get that memo.

Do we really have to go back to the time when women couldn't make private decisions with their doctors? [Reverse the roles and read that sentence with the word, 'men', see if it makes sense.] In essence, are the women who are voting Republican aware that they are in fact signing up to putting on the veil as well as the apron and be controlled by an out of control narcissist? Please take this personally.

No woman can call herself free who does not own and control her own body.       Margaret Sanger
I grew up in an era when contraception was difficult to obtain and it was quite a chore to get birth control pills. The Republicans claim that they are all for conception. If so why are they withholding the rights of women who want contraception covered on their insurance, why on earth do they want to shut down Planned Parenthood whose agency does 97% of it's work providing cancer screening and providing contraception affordably? Think! At the same time Viagra is easily obtained by any man who requests it and it is paid for by the insurance companies. Please take this personally.

Some of the members of the Republican party are in a state of de-volution
Two easy solutions to this problem. Stand up and be counted. Vote for Hillary, she respects women and her policies and goals are respectful of women.

Let's go forward--- let's come together in a spirit of compassion and reason. Lack of empathy for women isn't good for our country. Lack of empathy at best is a sign of narcissism at worst sociopathy. As a great sage once said, "compassion for our fellow man [woman] isn't a sign of weakness but instead is the mark of civilization."

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Thursday, October 11, 2012

On Using Caution

A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.                          Lao-tzu
One of the natural aids that helps to heal the hip after surgery is some technical assistance: a walker and crutches. How many times have I observed someone with crutches or on a walker and thought, well, basically nothing of it. I'm embarrassed to say, most of the time I would go on my merry way and not think twice about what the person in the walker or on crutches goes through. Then I took care of my nearly ninety year old mother for a week and revised my opinion about walkers. We bought her the Cadillac version, one equipt with a seat and a compartment to carry your belongings from hither to thither. We even joked about getting her a horn. "That's so nice for Mom," I thought.

My mother was so amusing about using the walker. She was even funnier about the cane she used prior to the walker. As I mentioned in a previous post when my sister accompanied her to fly to one of our nieces' weddings Mom had to ride in one of those golf carts they use at air ports. Mom brandished that cane like a sword. Up in her  cart-perch she waved the cane and shouted to all in front of her on route to the plane, "woo-hoo, woo-hoo, out of my way." Honestly, how embarrassing for my sister! Happily, Sis thought it was hilarious.

When she first acquired the walker due to several falls, Mother used to talk aloud to herself about it's use. "First I put the brake on, then I take a deep breath, then I stand up and center myself, then take the brake off  and I'm ready to go." Ha, I thought, how quaint and darling.
One of my tragic flaws is that I'm something of a show-off. This started from the time I was little. I loved to do cartwheels, one handed cartwheels, stand on my bicycle seat, hands on the handle bars, do an arabesque while flying down our little hill at age six. I also broke my arm by attempting to 'tightrope walk' on the top of a playground swing set.  Not a comforting thought for a mother but it never stopped me.

So, it had been three weeks since surgery and I was starting to exhibit some of my more obnoxious habits to wit, doing arm push ups on the walker. I did this for my husband's entertainment [he would say exasperation...] Thank god, he was in the bathroom waiting to dry my legs after a shower when the inevitable happened. I pushed myself up from the walker with my arms, my legs dangling and he wasn't quite ready with the towel so I did several more arm push ups and ----Oops! The walker slid out from under me. I didn't completely fall but fell with my back against the wall and my left leg protectively shot out in front of me. No harm to the hip [or as my home health nurse would say 'grandma's antique tea cup'].  I can only pray that my surgeon has absolutely no interest in this blog. I was fine, but I scared my dear Mr. G and myself to death. I actually shook throughout my breakfast.

I would love to report to you that I absolutely learned my lesson. I sincerely hope that this is true. I have been triply more cautious, but that I would take that chance with my new hip is really unconscionable. So the way I'm making amends is by being like my Mom. "First I brace myself, then I take a deep breath, then I center myself and then, I'm ready to go" I mutter internally. Same goes for the crutches. There are so many possible errors that can be made and I must be vigilant about not falling despite the pot holes in the road.

If you should happen upon me on my crutches, best to be cautious yourself around me. One never knows when I might decide that I can hop away with a flourish and fall right into you.

Me holding up the Bean in Chicago.
susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

The Home Journey

 As mentioned last post, all but one day in the hospital was good. However, that day when I was a projectile vomiting mess is when a dear friend came to see me in the hospital. I was so pleased but looking so grey/green that this dear friend came to check on me the next day. Truly, this is was above and beyond the call of friendship... I was grateful to see her again and she was greatly relieved to see that I was breathing.

Mom only succumbed to a wheelchair at the art museum in the last year of her life.
 Arriving home from the hospital I was greeted by two friends who brought good cheer and fabulous food, the perfect combo for recovery. This instantly energized me and this was just the beginning of my "home journey" toward recovery. Both of these friends know me well and sternly warned me not to over due and to follow all of the rules set forth by my doctor for the Anterior hip replacement. The next day came the home health nurse who is a very dear friend so it was palative in more ways than one. She said something that I needed to hear. "Susan remember that you've had major surgery and what has been placed in your hip should be treated like it is your Grandma's antique tea cup. Go easy and be careful." Then a really darling physical therapist has been urging and coaxing me to be slow and deliberate. I am not known for being slow moving or for being sedentary. Now I am required to be both. Not easy for me.

However, here it is exactly three weeks since the surgery and many good things have happened and many good lessons learned.
  1. I learned to take the pain medicine prescribed so as to prevent the pain from causing acute discomfort. Did I follow that rule? Well no, and one night I didn't and paid the price, took me hours to get to sleep.
  2. There are so many fabulous friends and good cooks in our small town. Mr. G and I have only cooked two meals ourselves in the entire time I've been home.
  3. My husband, though quite the task master, is a superlative care giver and would be still getting up with me at night if I hadn't quietly just stopped asking for his assistance more than a week ago.
  4. I have learned to unabashedly ask for help. I am usually the helper [and I like it that way] so this took some getting used to.
  5. I am overwhelmed with gratitude: because I was able to have this operation; because of the friends; because of the excellent books that have come my way; because of the fabulous meals that have been brought to us; because my husband is retired and here for me constantly.
  6. I am so fortunate that I had an Anterior total hip replacement [as apposed to Posterior] because there are far fewer restrictions on how I can move my body.
  7. I absolutely lucked out with this glorious weather and have been able to sit out on our deck almost every day. I can't imagine how this beginning recovery would have been if I had been house bound.
So now my routine is to go down our road on crutches each day and do the exercises that the PT has helped me with. I have ventured into town several times and so many people ask me "what happened to you?" that I feel I should hang a sign over my neck that says, 'anterior total hip replacement right here'... A friend of mine said, "no you should just say,"when I was running with the bull in Pamplona, I got gored!" That is so much more glamorous than the truth about the surgery: osteoarthitis and genetics, but there it is. Being dull is never fun or glamorous.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Thursday, September 27, 2012

My Journey to Surgery

Hopefully she has some good people for her recovery
As I said in my last post [9/9/12] I never casually sign up for voluntary pain. That's one of the reasons that I fought and fought hard to not have total hip replacement surgery. Here's a brief list of the methods I employed to fight the inevitable:
  1. I read and re read Sarno's book Healing Back Pain in the belief that I was faking it.
  2. I distracted myself from the pain mentally with loving thoughts, ignoring the the pain, pushing through the pain, giving myself stern talkings to...
  3. I distracted myself physically with breathing techniques, yoga, acupuncture, bike riding, hikes and physical therapy.
  4. I took copious vitamins, herbs like tumeric, rubs like arnica, pills like aspirin and aleve.
  5. I saw doctors: my primary care physician, a Rheumatoligist.
  6. I submitted to X rays and a cortisone shot in the hip [ouch x3].
  7. I got two professional opinions from orthopedic surgeons.

I finally faced the truth, as my chosen surgeon said, "nothing you could have done and nothing short of the total hip replacement is going to take the pain away," from my poor little degenerated hip bones. So I scheduled surgery.

Once I had the date for surgery I was handed a three ring binder called "My Joint Journey" [I am not making this up]. In it was the lush detail of how to prepare for surgery, how to prepare your house, the exercises that they recommended prior to surgery and  after surgery. Not exactly stimulating reading unless you're about to voluntarily go under the knife.

Things changes. I went from the most reluctant candidate for surgery to the most impatient. Not being able to walk very far greatly influenced my turn around. I was reminded of this when I witnessed my cat who ordinarily turns tail and runs at the sight of the cat carrier, actually walked into it after his last fight with the local bully racoon. The very good Mr. G took him to the vet to get patched up with hardly a gutteral meow. Goes to show that when you need care, you want it ASAP. I lucked out and someone cancelled and I got in for my surgery three weeks earlier than was originally scheduled.

I knew that I was in the best of hands, I had researched well [with the help of my daughter-in-law] and my logical brain finally kicked in to comfort me. This happens when I board an airplane, I always say to myself, "I can't fly this plane so I surrender all control to the pilot." My surgeon, a jewel of a man, radiated enthusiasm and confidence. Believe me that helped enormously. He was my pilot, I surrendered control to him.

The night before surgery we got to stay with my son's family and that was a treat and comforting. My grandson flings himself on me and is "my blanket" and my granddaughter hugs me and pats my back saying "you're going to be fine." My daughter in law [who is a Physical therapist] had many words of wisdom and reassurance. My son, as usual, was darling and dear to me.

The hospital experience was excellent in that it is a well oiled machine with caring professional nurses. I kept jokingly saying to the nurses that this was "my spa experience" and part of me was absolutely serious. OK, no mani/pedis or facials or massages but loving attention and concern about me and my experience in the hospital.

Only one day was atrocious and that was the day after surgery. I had a violent reaction to the Oxycontin and barfed not only on my nurse but also on the PT. The determined PT really wanted me to get out of the bed and god knows I made an attempt but the black dots in front of my eyes got in the way. My BP had dropped down to 62/48 with all of the barfing. Thankfully they quickly figured out it was the meds, and once those dreadful pills left my system I was truly better. My son and family showed up that evening and I was able to revel in my grandson projecting himself all over the room, Superman fashion, on the nurses rolling stool.  My granddaughter made a game of the walker and son and daughter in law brought treats. There is no question in my mind that the most welcome ingredient for a fast recovery is loving attention.

Tomorrow I will talk about another essential ingredient in recovery.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Anticipation, ADD and Adaptation

A painting my Mom did of the county fair
I am close to having a total hip replacement and am attempting to be calm and philosophical about the entire experience. Ha. It's like there's a small circus living under the back of my skull, distracting me from today, riotously projecting me into the future.

You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
Eleanor Roosevelt
When I have a big event in my life my latent form of ADD takes over. I found myself diligently scrubbing my soap dispenser when that awareness hit me. After wiping down the cabinets, making a pie, doing two loads of wash and cooking breakfast, it's all I can do not to redecorate the entire house. Also, in my pre-operative state, I forget to eat and am easily distractable from mundane tasks. Last night I was going to have a glass of wine, but the bottle wasn't cold enough so I put it in the freezer and then set about making a shrimp/pasta/veggie dish for dinner. Lo and behold, when I went to get a few ice cubes this morning, there was my Chardonnay Popsicle. O dear.

I guess that there plenty of up sides to this ADD, the house is in order, the clothes clean, folded and put away. I'm quite ready for my surgery physically. Emotionally, hmm.  I wonder if I'll ever be ready to go into the hospital, voluntarily, to get cut. This is the main reason that I fought this hip replacement for almost five years. This is also the reason that elective plastic surgery absolutely baffles me. Signing up for pain? No, thank you, that just sounds silly to me.

In analyzing why I was so recalcitrant about the hip surgery I came up with a number of reasons.
  1. My husband hadn't retired until April and I guess that I felt insecure about asking friends and relatives to be available to take care of me.
  2. We had insurance that wouldn't allow me to choose my surgeon myself.
  3. I was able to ride my bike literally anywhere I wanted to go in our small town.
  4. I was inconvenienced by my hip but wasn't in pain until seven months ago.
  5. I was deluded into thinking I could get better on my own.
  6. My Grandma died after her hip surgery, [however, she was 86 years old...]
All of the above sounds semi ridiculous now as I write it. But they were contributing factors to my reluctance. That all changed with the negative: the advent of pain, and the inability to walk more than a couple of blocks. And the postive changes: my husband's retirement and our new health insurance. Then seeing the x ray of my poor little bone-on- bone hip made the decision easier.

Let me remind you, I'm very grateful to have this operation, I just wish I was on the other side and well into my recovery. O well.

Wish me luck and a speedy recovery. If you're inclined to pray, please do so, if you're inclined to sweet visualizations and sending healing energy, fling some my way. I'm confident I'll be fine and recover quickly, but there's this small circus...

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Monday, August 27, 2012

And Then the Women Said "What?"

Who does not love wine, women and song
Remains a fool his whole life long.
Johann Heinrich Voss
These days many of us are shaking our heads in wonderment, is this pre-1920?  Yesterday was the anniversary of the day women got the right to vote, 8/26/1920. This should be celebrated with homage and cheer to the hard working suffragettes who helped bring this about. However, this is not the case everywhere. What concerns me is I'm getting the strong impression that certain segments of our population would just as soon we lost, not only our right to vote, but also our right to privacy. The is a devolution.

A very elementary thought: isn't what happens between a woman and her doctor private? It certainly is true for men. In my business, I hold sacred the rights of my clients to keep whatever is said in my office in confidence. The exceptions: the client is a danger to themselves or others. An example [one that is true for counselors and doctors everywhere] is that if the client is being abused, or is suicidal or worse homicidal, then someone must be alerted. Other than that it is private, and as sacred as the priest hearing a confession. I don't repeat outside office what I've heard inside without the written permission of the client.

So, why is it OK for the politicians to be dictating that women must divulge what is between her and her doctor? Well, it's not OK ever. If that trust is broken then it should be true for any man considering a vasectomy or penile enlargement, or Viagra for that matter. Do you see sweat forming on some of the male brows? I do because this is a logical argument. What's good for the goose is good for the gander. Just as for a young man, any grown woman over the age of 18 has a right to privacy between herself and her doctor.

I don't believe in calling anyone a name but...
Here is the party that supposedly wants government off our backs, but they make
A woman's body can prevent pregnancy in cases of 'legitimate' rape.
Todd Akin,  Republican from Mo. a questionable member of the House Science Committee
There are in fact two things, science and opinion: the former begets knowledge, the latter ignorance.               Hippocrates, Law

Let's connect the dots. Who, I must ask all American voters, has the babies? Who brings that baby into the world? Who earned the right to vote in 1920 through a hard fought battle? Who has tried to keep these baby givers and voters restricted? I have a hint for you, it's not the Democrats. And it's not the Democrats who have it in their platform that no abortion is allowed, even in the case of incest or rape. Is this a loving, nurturing, concerned or caring platform for women? Is it right to attack the victim of a rape by requiring her to carry the child of her violent abuser? Isn't this just another form of abuse? Why and how can they justify no right to privacy for a victim of rape or incest? The fact is, horribly, most of the victims of incest are under the age of sixteen. So, not allowing her to have an abortion is a form of child abuse. In essence, they are recommending child abuse in their platform. Think about it: this is almost as egregious as the sexual abuse that the little girl suffered.

When an entire party agrees that abuse of little girls and women is acceptable and allowable, there is a word for that---misogyny. It means hatred of women and they will be misogynists all if they vote to OK this stupid platform.

There, of course, is a solution to the above. Vote for candidates who actually like and love women. Who respect our rights to privacy. Who would never dream of taking away your grandmother's right to vote because she doesn't have a driver's license and hence no photo ID.

As simplistic as this sounds, vote for your daughter's rights, vote for your mother's, your granddaughter's and your grandmother's rights. Vote to honor women, not to disrespect them. Do so with love and gratitude that women have these rights and sincerely do not want to lose them.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved.

Monday, August 20, 2012

Groutfest 2012


Many divergent activities at Groutfest 2012

Fun at the fair!
Girl cousins--- sharp shooters
It is more or less inexplicable why the best times are with family. I believe, in part, it's an event that resonates with all the most delicious fun and laughter. We revel in each others quirks and idiosyncrasies [did you ever notice that if you hyphenated that word it could be 'idio-sin-crazies', good name for our band]. Though, to tell you the truth, I am exhausted from all the days of entertaining the hoards, mind you, it's a good exhaustion, one that makes you sink onto the couch and smile with the memories.

Here are a some of those memories.  J, our seven year old grandson, on one of those very hot nights awakened Mr. G at 5 AM. Mr. G-"J, what is it?" J- "Papa I can't sleep because of the lines.' Mr. G- "What lines J?" J- "Here, I'll show you". So he goes into his bedroom and J shows him that there is a tiny bit of light coming in from the curtain that's pushed aside to let air in. Mr. G- "J is this what you mean??" J- "YES!" So, he pushed the curtain tight thereby cutting off any chance of air circulation, creating a sauna. Another time J complained that the girls, who were sleeping across the way in the guest house, were keeping him awake. Mr. G -"J, how can that be, you have curtains to block the light". J- "Well, if you stand on this chair and pull the curtain back you can see the light!"

The mainstay of Groutfest
Then there is our seven year old granddaughter, who takes every opportunity to cartwheel, do back-bends into a kick over, endlessly. She is devoted to our 14 year old cat and carries him everywhere. Our eight year old grandson, S with his skinny arms was able to ring the bell in the carnival game, first try, and won a prize. Our ten year old granddaughter, La, is such a good sport, she loves being with her older cousins and yet is a good natured about being with the younger kids with nary a complaint. My older son helped fix up a rusty old bike of mine so that La and I could take what I thought would be a short ride down our road. This was not to be. We went out to a main road, up several hills and down several miles to a small lake where we put our feet in the water. It wasn't until we got back home that I found out La had only one workable gear on my old bike. As I said, a good, uncomplaining sport.

A winner of the first heat, the long narrow car named, 'boardwalk'.
The zucchini is on top of a red shoe, and they named this entry, 'shoefly'.
We don't do anything extravagant, we BBQ, play games, talk, talk and eat. When I'm more physically able we hike, this time it was hot for the NW and so we went swimming instead and, of course to the fair. Our boys entered their creations in the 'Zucchini 500'. Yes, each of the cars has a zucchini on top of it. They had a blast racing their 'cars'. We only wished we'd squashed the competition. S came close.

My parents hosted many a family reunion and my father famously said, "I love to see you all come and I love to see you go." I didn't get it then, but I do now. Good exhaustion is still exhaustion. My Mom said after our get togethers when she was in her 70's and 80's, "I'd stay in bed the entire day after you all left." We aren't that bad yet. We went to the fair Saturday, yet again, to hear our niece and nephew in law's band and even rode our bikes. So, see, while we still have our relative 'youth', and by next year I'll have that shiny new hip. Do come to Groutfest 2013, you're invited. It's a ball!

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Monday, August 6, 2012

The Thing With Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers---
That perches in the soul---
And sings the tune without the words---
And never stops--at all---
Emily Dickinson
When you consider all of the problems that can befall someone, having a hip that needs repair seems fairly insignificant. That is, I might add, for those who are not in the throws of facing surgery and having to wait more than two months while in pain. Not fun. However, I'm quite sure that I'll get in prior to the two months estimated time limit. I have hope. Foolish? False? Not sure, don't care.

Hope is a peculiar beast, definitely more an owl than a vulture. And I am a creature of my era because I can have the owl perching on my soul. I am going to have the most modern and helpful of techniques: a total hip replacement. If this was fifty years ago, I would be one of those prematurely old women hobbling around with my cane, no hope of recovery. You see, as I did my own X-rays, my hip is "very deteriorated", bone on bone. Even I felt sorry for my poor little left hip when my husband and I gazed at the X-rays in the doctor's office. My right hip, bless its stalwart bones, looks textbook beautiful and I'm not sure I've ever, until now, been in love with a bone prior to gazing on its perfect looking X-ray. I'm thanking the stars that I won't have to have another surgery.

It has never been, and never will be, easy work! But the road that is built in hope is more pleasnat to the traveler than the road built in despair, even though they lead to the same destination.                                        Marion Zimmer Bradley


I am in the business of hope based on more than thirty five years of counseling people on how to live their life differently. Counseling is nothing if it's not mind expanding, world enlarging and option giving. I guess what I most love about it, is watching the person before me come to the AH! It has to be their AH! and that's why one of my familiar statements to my clients is, "do you have to do everything that I say?" Because, of course, the answer is NO! I have loads of ideas and experience but it has got to be the shining light in the other's mind, eyes and heart that is just right for them.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Monday, July 30, 2012

Looking at the Impossible, Seeing the Improbable

You can learn a lot of things from the flowers
especially in the month of June,
There is health and happiness and romance
All in the lovely month of June.             from the movie "Alice in Wonderland"

I'm one of those gardeners that knowledgeable gardeners, observing my habits, would just shake their head. However, I've made myself happy by willy-nilly planting things where I choose rather than having any advanced plan. No grids, no maps, no agonizing as to where to fit in an exotic breed. I plant what tends to work in the northwest with a nod to "deer proof" [ha-ha] and bombs away. I was complaining to another gardener at the farmer's market, "the deer are eating my crocosmia and they aren't supposed to like it." He said, "I guess they didn't read the manual, naughty, naughty."

If there is a plan for the garden, it's subtle. I do veer away from certain colors like dark burgundies and notice  I don't have a lot of yellow but other than that the garden is fairly freeform. I did losely follow the rule of bigger plants in the middle of my circles [no squares at my place] and smaller plants toward the front of the beds. I like it crowded so there isn't much room for weeds. Sometimes I find myself, with a freshly dug up plant on the shovel wandering around looking for the right place to plant it. This is wrong, wrong, wrong, but this is what I do. I figure I have ADD/911 as a gardener.

It is best to win without fighting.             Sun Tzu
Since gardening is a hobby I decided it better be something that I love, not something that I agonize over. So my garden does not resemble Monet's at Giverny but does resemble the water lily series after Monet was losing his eyesight. It is a peaceful lovely place especially if you keep your distance and ignore the persistent weeds that poke up through the flowers.** Remember, no agonizing. I do weed-- just so the poor things can survive-- but irregularly to say the least.

The art of enjoying the best gardens is looking at the impossible and seeing the improbable. Looking at the miracle of life from a seed, a bulb or a corm and seeing the improbablity of the creatures like the bumble bees, the butterflies and the birds that happen by. Glorious.
A garden is the best alternative therapy.     
                   Germaine Greer
One of the great things about being in the garden is the ability to lose myself in the minutia of the plant world, seeing the details of how a plant is growing, it's shape, it's buds, it's blossums and it's health. I then drift to who's landing on this plant: the friends, like the bees, the butterflies, the bumble bees, the ants. This gives me great pleasure to then learn about these creatures and this year I'm focusing on the butterflies. Isn't it a grand year for butterflies? Or could it be that I am studying them and so see them everywhere. The Western Tiger Swallowtail, the Monarchs, the Western Admiral, the Lorquin's Admiral and that's just the ones that I've noticed since July 21. On that date I acquired a guide to butterflies, it's written so a child could understand it, with gobs of pictures for identification. Luscious and fun to do. Our sons and all four of the grandkids will be with us in August and I have plans as their camp counselor...

**Unbelievable but true, as I was writing this sentence Mr. G hands me the phone and I've won a set of gardening tools from a raffle!

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved