Category: Health

Since When Are We “Post-Covid”?

Jane 1 Comment

Update 08/01/2021

“We gotta talk about your post.” That was the text message I got from my sister-in-law: epidemiologist and kick-ass lady in general. “I think you can add to it to make it better.”

My SIL’s point, and the one which I did not clearly make in the article below, is this:

Vaccination is the solution to a post-Covid world.

Breakthrough infections are EXTREMELY rare. Vaccinated people who have died of Covid had underlying conditions.

The way we protect those who are immunocompromised and those who are too young to get vaccinated is by getting vaccinated ourselves.

So get vaccinated.

Full. Stop.

I’m adding this to the top of this article because, as my SIL pointed out, I did not say this in my post. It wasn’t clear at all. I’m going to leave the original post below so that everyone can see how sometimes I can completely miss making any kind of productive point in an article. Most of the time, that doesn’t really matter. But when it comes to public health information, it is extremely important to be clear.

I was not clear. My mistake. And I’m so glad I have such awesome readers who aren’t afraid to give me feedback. Love you, SIL.

Original Post

Am I missing something here?

More than 610,000 people have died of Covid-19 in the United States.

That’s over 110,000 lives lost since February 22nd, when the president held a memorial ceremony for the victims of Covid-19 at the White House.

This month, the number of infections has risen in more than two dozen states. The Delta variant is spreading rapidly and according to data from the Washington Post (link above), the death rate among unvaccinated people is as high as it was among the population in general last January.

So, why am I hearing and reading about a “post-covid” world?

An Inconvenient Reality

The hard truth is that this virus is still spreading, infecting and killing people. Even here in the United States, where 50% of the population has received at least one dose of vaccine.

The unvaccinated are dying–young and old.

I’ve heard people scoff and say, “They brought it on themselves”–but my stomach turns at that attitude. These are human beings, lives and families we’re talking about.

Who knows why a person hasn’t been vaccinated? Perhaps they’re under the age of 12 and cannot be vaccinated yet.

Perhaps they can’t because of autoimmune issues. Maybe they have access issues and cannot get to where they can get vaccinated.

And yes, maybe some are refusing to get vaccinated because of misguided beliefs. But they’re still people, fellow citizens and human beings, and their deaths are just as tragic as those that went before them.

Living in a Bubble

We’ve “opened up” in our area, with masks no longer mandated and capacity limits lifted in restaurants and other venues. As of yesterday, our county has a 54.2% vaccination rate.

Some establishments still require masks when indoors, but the vast majority of people are going around maskless, including young, unvaccinated kids.

My worry is what will happen if and when this bubble bursts.

Breakthrough infections DO happen, and vaccinated people have died of Covid-19. Admittedly, most vaccinated people who have ended up hospitalized with Covid-19 have had severe underlying conditions, but still.

The fact remains that vaccines do not always protect from infection (they are effective in preventing severe illness and death, yes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get infected).

And once you are infected, data show that you can still pass it on to those around you.

Why I’m Still Masking

Yes, the probability of my getting infected is low.

And if I get infected, the probability of my passing on the infection to my unvaccinated children is very low.

But I don’t care if the chances are one in 1,000,000. As long as there is a chance of that happening, I will wear a mask.

And I will have my children wear masks.

Come the school year, they may be the only ones wearing masks in their classes (though somehow I doubt that). But at this point I consider wearing a mask much like wearing a helmet on a bicycle. I don’t care if your friends don’t do it.

You will.

And so will I.

I Get Some Looks

People look at me funny now when I have my mask on indoors. They may think I’m an anti-vaxxer who has refused to get the shot.

Or perhaps they think I’m being obnoxious and making a political statement.

You may think so, but honestly my wearing a mask is not intended to be a political statement. My thinking goes like this:

I’ve just been traveling internationally (to a country the State Department and the CDC agree is a hotbed for the Delta variant).

Wouldn’t it stink if I unwittingly got infected (remember: getting infected is not the same as getting sick with Covid!) and passed it on to you?

And wouldn’t it stink if you were one of those 5% of people whose vaccine doesn’t successfully protect against severe illness?

Wouldn’t that stink?

I Can Handle Looks

Yes, the likelihood is low. Yet it still exists.

So glare away. I’m going to keep masking for now. At least until both our children are fully vaccinated. And maybe longer. We’ll see.

I invite you to join me.

Let’s put up with a little inconvenience and discomfort for now, in order to better enjoy that Post-Covid world when it really comes.

Image source

Take A Hike!

Jane 2 Comments

It must have been obvious that I was not doing well.

So obvious, in fact, that my mother’s dear friend and my stand-in godmother (who also takes on role of great auntie and sometimes even grandmother in her friend’s place) informed me that she was coming to watch the boys on Wednesday afternoon and that I should leave the house.

She didn’t offer to watch the boys. No. She informed me she was going to watch the boys.

Alrighty, then! I’ll leave!

But where to go?

In the Before Times I’d have booked a massage, or perhaps an afternoon sewing lesson at a local fabric store. Maybe a mani-pedi or a visit to the hairdresser.

But in Covid Times (despite being vaccinated), either these activities are unavailable or seem unsafe.

So instead, I checked the weather report and then wrote to a friend.

“I know you’re working and you have responsibilities and everything, but I’m not okay and my godmother is watching the kids tomorrow and do you want to go on a hike with me?”

The response was swift and encouraging: I’ll make it work.

Outdoor Escape

That’s how I found myself in the car headed west on a mid-week afternoon (on St. Patrick’s Day, no less!).

I’d gone on AllTrails and found a lovely-looking hike within reasonable distance of home. I packed my hiking backpack with water, a first-aid kit, my knitting, two hunks of cheese and a Swiss army knife, grabbed my walking sticks and my mother’s old hiking boots and hopped in the car.

We met at Sky Meadows state park, a lovely park with several trail routes. After encountering a brood of chickens zealously guarding the restrooms, we struck north and tackled a 4.4 mile loop with gusto.

The first part of the hike was the hardest, but the view was worth it. As we stood at the top of a very steep hill, winded and sweaty after just 10 minutes of hiking, I thought to myself, “This was a wonderful idea.”

So Grateful

That hike in excellent company (and the delicious meal that followed!) was exactly what the doctor ordered.

So many things can crowd together to fog my mind and put me in a funk. Tedium, boredom, loneliness, feelings of inadequacy… We all have these feelings sometimes.

What we don’t all have, and what I am privileged to enjoy, are resources and opportunities.

Resources like the wonderful people who support me: my husband, my mother’s best friend, my own friends, family. Opportunities like being able to take a hike mid-week.

For these, and for so much more, I am very grateful. I hope to never take the people and the circumstances that surround me for granted.

If You’re Feeling Blue

You’re not alone. Though trust me, I know it feels like it. Depression sinks us further into isolation, which is a scary side-effect of social distancing.

If you or someone you love is suicidal, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255.

The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (or SAMHSA–I know, catchy, right?) also offers a 24/7 hotline for free treatment referral and information: 1-800-662-HELP (4357).

There are lots of online resources like Better Help and others. I have no personal experience with these and don’t know how they work. Many of them are for-profit companies, so be aware of that.

If you have a family doctor, you can also reach out for tele-health appointments and referrals.

You can also write to a friend, or call. If you’re reading this and you want to talk, just drop me a line or give me a call. My friend rearranged her work day to take a hike with me. That’s what friends do. I’ll do the same for you.

Photo credit: Brittany Baker on AllTrails.com

Back in Time

Jane Leave a comment

The pandemic really has thrown me back in time.

First, it was the bread baking. Remember when we all thought we were going to STARVE and there WOULDN’T BE ANY BREAD?

(I never did get a sourdough starter going, I just stuck to the NYT no-knead bread recipe. I’m lazy.)

Then it was the knitting.

I was already on board with the knitting trend, but it would seem that many others (Michelle Obama, included!) joined me.

Then there were all the things that I started doing again that I hadn’t done in a long time: tennis lessons, playing piano, writing on the blog…

But this latest development has taken me so far back into the past that I could almost feel at home in one of the Barbara Pym novels I wrote about last week.

Sock Darning.

Yup. It’s true.

I have taken to darning socks.

Darn(ed) it!

Not just any old socks, mind you. I’ve darned some fancy Smartwool socks. The kind that you’re not supposed to need to darn. DARN THEM!

Mindful Mending

The act of threading the needle in and out, back and forth, focusing on keeping my shoulders relaxed and my back straight… It’s meditative.

The pandemic has been anxiety-provoking for most everyone. For me, stitching helps to calm my mind and soothe some of that anxiety.

Honestly, it also helps to stave off feelings of boredom, uselessness and inactivity.

Loved Clothes Last: Added Bonus

I haven’t been shopping much during this pandemic. I’ve avoided my bi-annual clothes shopping excursions. I’ve tried ordering some clothes online, but the waste of having to mail so many of them back is frustrating.

I’ve participated peripherally in the slow fashion movement by making myself some sweaters. These I wear all the time.

(I’ve practically lived in my Weekender sweater this winter!)

But with the pandemic, and with being unable (or unwilling) to do much clothes shopping, I’ve found myself slowly embracing the mending movement.

An attempt at mending a cardigan

First it was the socks. Then, this cardigan that was my mother’s. These aren’t fancy clothes, and you could argue that they’re hardly worth mending.

But they’re clothes I like to wear. They’ve been in steady rotation since the colder weather set in, and I’d like to keep them that way.

If You’ve Any Mending…

Don’t throw away something you like to wear just because it’s got a little hole in it.

Pick up your needle and thread and set to it! You could try doing some visible mending to make a fashion statement.

(Or, like me, you could attempt to make your mending invisible and fail entirely.)

After all, there’s a pandemic on. It’s not like we’ve got a whole lot else to do.

Talking to Kids About Death

Jane Leave a comment

We got some sad news before the weekend.

The teacher’s assistant in the Bug’s online kindergarten class died in her sleep early last Thursday morning.

She had been off from school for about a week, the Bug’s teacher having told the class that Mrs. H wasn’t feeling well and was taking some days off.

So we knew she was unwell, but we had no idea how unwell.

Hard News

Chico and I were upset to learn of Mrs. H’s death. Though we didn’t know her well at all, we felt like she was part of the household.

We heard her voice every school day, coming through the speakers on the Bug’s computer. She rounded up the kids and got them ready to focus on the day.

She would chat with each child a bit before lessons began, and often shared little anecdotes of her own in response to the kids’ stories. She was a calm, kind presence in the Bug’s class.

Knowing how much the Bug liked Mrs. H, and worried about how he would take the news, we agreed to wait until the weekend to tell him.

His Reaction

On Saturday, when we were sitting together as a family, we broke him the news.

Without discussing it previously, Chico and I knew to use very clear, unequivocal language. In both Spanish and English, we told him that Mrs. H has died. Her heart has stopped beating, and her body has stopped working. She will not be back in his class.

We told him how sad we felt about her death, and how it made us feel like crying. We told him we would miss hearing her voice through the computer.

We each told a story of something she had said that made us happy to remember. Then we asked him to try and remember something about Mrs. H that made him happy.

He was fiddling with a piece of Lego in his hands, and he seemed distracted. He said, smiling, “If I have to think of something about Mrs. H that makes me happy, I’ll be thinking a long time! She always makes me happy!” Then he didn’t seem interested in engaging any more on the subject.

We told him that if he felt sad about Mrs. H not coming back, he could talk to us or to his teacher. He smiled, nodded, and went back to playing.

I, for one, was a bit surprised at his seeming lack of interest in the subject. But I reminded myself of several important points:

1. Mrs. H was a virtual presence to the Bug.

School for the Bug has been something he participates in through a screen. Mrs. H was only recognizable to him as a face on his computer.

While he enjoys his virtual schooling, I think that puts a bit of distance between him and the teachers and other kids in his class. Almost as if they’re not entirely real.

2. Her death is an abstract idea to him.

The Bug learned about her death on a Saturday, more than a week since the last time he saw her. His life isn’t materially altered by her absence, and he has yet to interact with others who might be sad about her death.

He may feel it more keenly when he “goes” back to school on Monday morning and she isn’t there. I don’t know what his teacher plans to say to the kids, but I wouldn’t be surprised if someone brought it up.

3. Children grieve in fits and starts.

According to an expert interviewed by NPR, kids don’t process grief all at once.

(Neither do adults, as a matter of fact.)

What may barely elicit a shrug one day might be keenly felt the next.

And as a child grows, the grief of losing a relative or someone close to them years before can come back with renewed force as their understanding improves.

There May Be More To Come

While he may have appeared uninterested or unconcerned when he got the news, I would be surprised if the subject didn’t come up again.

The Bug is highly sensitive, and he will surely be influenced by his teacher’s reaction, or the reactions of other children in his class.

I expect we’ll get occasional questions about Mrs. H, and about death in general. He still asks questions about his Nana’s death (though he was only 2.5 when she died, he still remembers some).

The only thing we can do is to respond honestly, clearly (no euphemisms such as “passed away” or–God forbid–“went to sleep”) and kindly.

Where are Nana, Grammy (his great-grandmother) and Mrs. H? Well, we don’t really know for sure, but our Christian faith teaches us to expect Heaven: eternal rest in the company of God.

Kids At Funerals: Yes or No?

We had little choice. We had to take both the Bug and the Bear to their Nana’s funeral. Anyone who could have babysat them was going to be there anyway.

Besides, the Bear was three days old and my milk was about to come in.

For children as young as the Bug and the Bear were, I think it hardly matters to them that they were at the funeral.

I’ve read that experts advise giving older children the choice of whether or not to attend funerals. However, in the case of family members, I would expect our children to be there.

My mother firmly believed that children should participate in big family events, whether weddings, parties, reunions or funerals. I share that belief.

Mourning, especially for a family member, is done as a family. It is a communal activity. I would expect our kids to attend family funerals, but would not require them to go to other funerals.

Others may feel differently, but I have personal experience of missing a family funeral, and I still regret it.

Though I was visiting when he died, I had to go back to boarding school before I could attend my cousin’s funeral 18 years ago. I have always regretted that I wasn’t there to share that part of the grieving process with my extended family.

Not Easy, But Important

It’s never easy to talk about death, especially to kids.

But in the end, it is worth it. Death is a part of life and cannot be ignored.

If we hide that reality from our kids and isolate them from participating in the communal grieving process with the rest of their families (or friends), we deprive them of understanding how life and death are intertwined.

I don’t know how things will be for the Bug. He may not grieve much at all for Mrs. H. Or he may be slowly internalizing what’s happened–processing it in his own time.

And that’s really all we can do. Give it time.

Snowy Day Exercise

Jane Leave a comment

Does shovelling the snow count as a workout?

I tried to log it on Strava, but there’s no “shovelling” setting. It’s definitely more than a walk, but probably not quite a run.

And what about sledding?

Sledding is quite the workout, you know! Especially when your kids insist on you joining in. It’s not like I can stand at the top of the hill and just push them down.

I’m heaving myself on and off the sled, hauling myself and the sled up the hill, starting all over again.

I logged sledding as a walk, but I’ll need to strap on my heart rate monitor for Strava to really register how much work I’m actually doing.

If I had to guess, I’d call it an RPE of about 5. Nothing to sneer at, especially when it lasts HOURS AND HOURS.

Snowy Day Fun

The snow started here in northern Virginia on Saturday night, and it’s been snowing on and off since then.

It’s snow days #3 and 4 for the Bug, and he’s over the moon. They’ve already declared the snow day for tomorrow, and the Bug is already anticipating the fun we’re going to have.

Groundhog Day!

Tomorrow is also Groundhog Day! We’ve got a groundhog-related take-home craft to do. We picked ours up at the library this morning.

(We were some of the few people brave enough to venture to the library today.)

Quiet Days

As you can tell, these have been some quiet days. The boys are at home, activities and facilities are closed, and our days vary only in which storybooks we read and what’s for dinner from the Hello Fresh box.

The snow is a welcome change, and makes it that much easier to get outside.

It seems the entire region agrees, judging from this headline in the Washington Post.

While it was strange having to wear a mask while doing all these activities, it was such a relief to the confinement and grayness of winter in a pandemic.

Aching, Tired Bones

Despite having aching, tired bones and muscles, I’m so glad this snow is here.

Anything to break up the tedium, and bring a little joy to our days.

Photo credit: Charlotte Geary Photography.

Anyone For Tennis?

Jane Leave a comment

One of my Christmas gifts this year from my beloved Chico was tennis lessons.

That’s right! I haven’t played since senior year in high school, and yet here I am, new tennis racket in hand and hitting the courts…

AT 8 O’CLOCK ON SATURDAY MORNING.

Now I do like a lie-in, and my Chico, being a morning person, very generously lets me laze about on the weekends.

But now I’m having to haul my lazy self out of bed bright and early on these cold winter Saturday mornings to go chase down some tennis balls.

And you know what?

I’m Loving It!

Sure, it’s not easy to get up and out, but once I do, it’s so much fun.

There are three other adults in my class: a young couple and another lady. The other lady has played before and she’s definitely the strongest of the four of us.

It wasn’t long before we all exchanged numbers, realizing (as one does) that playing for one hour a week isn’t enough for us to really improve.

This week we met up for the first time outside of tennis lessons.

Not Feeling It At First…

I was half-tempted to bail. I’d done my workout this morning and wasn’t feeling up to much this evening.

But Chico wasn’t going to let me bail. He was almost more excited than I was about my going to play!

So I kitted up, put on my tennis shoes and headed over to the courts.

Boy I’m Glad I Did

Exercise always makes me feel better! And doing something socially like playing tennis doubles? It’s the best.

Not only did I get my exercise-induced endorphin rush, but I also got my fix of social(ly distanced) interaction!

My doubles partner warned me: “You get addicted to tennis doubles!” and I can really see why that happens.

You have the fun of playing tennis without killing yourself trying to cover the entire court. And you can meet some cool people! Playing at the HOA sports pavilion allows me to meet people who live locally.

Here’s To More Tennis!

My Chico just loves tennis, and our boys are getting into it, too. The Bug takes lessons with the same teacher as me later on Saturday mornings.

I’d love for this to become another activity that we all share, like bike riding. So here’s to more tennis!

Image sourced from the Washington Post

Motivation Flagging

Jane Leave a comment

I was doing SO WELL!

I was steadily losing weight. My energy levels were up, my fitness levels were great, and my digestion! Well, I won’t go into the details, but it was great.

Then Came Christmas.

The Christmas cookies. The Panettone. The mulled wine. The port wine! The red wine! The white wine! THE CHAMPAGNE!

My normal rule of only having an alcoholic drink on the weekends went out the window.

That’s not to say I drank to excess, but I had more frequent glasses of wine than usual.

And it wasn’t just the tasty booze. Chico spoiled me rotten with littleneck clams and hake on Christmas eve. New Year’s Eve was yet another culinary treat.

Everything was too tasty to have just one helping!

So Naturally…

The numbers stopped moving downward on the scale. They halted and hovered. Then they crept back up slightly.

While I kept up my regular exercise, it wasn’t enough to counteract the excesses of the table.

And so I fell back into bad habits. My blood sugar started spiking and dipping as it had always done before.

All the hard work I had put into levelling out my blood sugar and fighting hanger, lost!

CURSES AND DAMNATION!

Struggling to Get Back to It

And so here we are in January, and I’m struggling to get back into the habits I had fought so hard to build before the holidays.

The funny part is, I felt so much better before indulging over the holidays.

I notice it especially in my mood, my energy levels and my digestive health. Overindulging in carbohydrates, sugar and alcohol has thrown my system out of whack.

But the addictive nature of these foods makes it hard to break the cycle.

A Little Willpower & A Lot of Help

It’s time for a little force of will and a lot of moral support.

Part of the willpower is removing temptations. Like the Bug’s leftover birthday cake, the panettone lingering in the bread bin, the opened bottle of wine in the fridge, the Christmas treats…

I may face pushback from other members of the family, but they’ll get over it. They’ve had plenty!

The other side of the willpower coin is taking the time to plan. Now that we’re back to our normal routine, I have to remember to plan appropriately for meals.

That means making sure the fridge and pantry are stocked with healthy options.

The help and moral support mostly comes from my Chico who is pretty much the only other adult I see on a regular basis these days.

But encouragement from family and friends, and from those of you who read this blog is a big help.

Not About the Number

In the end, though, this effort I’m making isn’t so much about the number on the scale.

(Though that number is definitely a factor, I can’t lie. Numbers mean a lot.)

The biggest motivation behind my desire to lose weight is to avoid the persistent back problems I’ve had.

Since dropping 5kg and increasing my overall fitness and strength, I haven’t had a single crisis with my lower back.

That’s huge. I used to have them nearly every month, and I had a particularly bad one in the fall that left me nearly immobile for a whole day.

(Joining the kids on the trampoline might have had something to do with that…)

So while it is nice to see numbers trending downwards on the scale, and measurements shrinking, the biggest reward is being pain-free and being able to hop up the stairs two at a time from the basement to the top floor without being winded.

So I’m ready to hold onto that thought, and get back into the business of taking care of myself.

Because if I don’t take care of myself, how will I take care of my boys?

Forgetting What Hanger Feels Like

Jane Leave a comment

What’s your danger zone?

Mine used to be anywhere between 11:00am (sometimes as early as 10:30) and lunchtime.

I had another danger zone typically somewhere around 4:00pm (again, sometimes as early as 3:30), when I HAD TO EAT SOMETHING.

When Hanger Strikes

Hanger (or the combination of hunger and anger) can strike swiftly and without warning.

One memorable occasion was early in my relationship with Chico. We were heading up for an overnight in the mountains towards the end of our first summer together.

We’d breakfasted early on toast, jam and coffee (a typical Spanish breakfast). With our preparations, though, it took us a while to get on the road.

Then, on our way up to the mountains, we stopped to pick up a picnic lunch. We packed it away, ready to pull out on our bike excursion later. By the time we checked into our bed & breakfast and got on our bikes, it was AFTER FOUR PM.

Chico said, “Let’s cycle out a ways and stop to eat by the lake.”

He remembers this as the first time he ever saw my death stare. A cold glint appeared in my eye and I said, “No. We are eating NOW.”

Needless to say, we ate then.

Crippled by Hanger

It used to be that I could not fathom going to a grocery store between 10am and lunchtime.

If I ventured into a supermarket at that witching hour, I was sure to fall prey to the buy-all-the-food-because-I’m-so-hungry demon.

And don’t even THINK of having the kids with me when shopping at that hour. My hunger and their pestering would prove just the alchemy required to produce an EXPLOSION of hanger.

It could get ugly.

Hanger Evaporates

Today, though… Today, I went to the grocery store at 11:30am. I hadn’t had lunch.

I didn’t buy a single item that wasn’t on my list. I didn’t have a meltdown in the store when I couldn’t find the Babybel cheeses. I didn’t feel like I needed to stuff my face with food as soon as I got home.

Why was today different?

Probably, because finally, after working at it since September, I have managed to level out my blood sugar.

Gradually Getting Less Hangry

I’ve told the blog everything. I told you all when I decided to start counting calories. I told you of my frustration when I spent so much time feeling hungry.

I also told you about reading up on the benefits of a higher-fat, higher-protein, lower-carbohydrate diet.

I gradually started to up my protein intake and make veggies my main source of carbohydrate. The impact on my weight was visible on the scale almost immediately.

Even without doing anything as drastic as the “induction phase’ of the Atkins diet, my body seemed to be responding to the changes.

But for a while, I still felt hungry. I’d even finish a meal and still feel hungry. The combination of that hunger and my frustration led to quite a bit of hanger, not gonna lie.

Then Suddenly, One Day, I Wasn’t Hangry

I can’t tell you exactly when it happened because it was so gradual.

The Bug has his lunch break from 10:30am to 11:30am. It’s a ridiculously early lunch. It used to be, however, that I was hungry enough to join the boys for lunch at about 11.

Then one day, as I got the boys’ lunch ready, I realized something.

I wasn’t hungry.

I didn’t feel like eating lunch with them. So instead, I brewed myself a cuppa and sat down with them while they ate.

Relief!

Without noticing it happening, I had succeeded: I had managed to get to a point where my blood sugar levels don’t dip and spike the way they used to.

Sure, I feel hungry. But it happens much less frequently and with far less urgency than it used to.

Generally, I find myself eating less, eating less frequently, thinking (and obsessing) less about food, and worrying less about snacks.

The Result

The result is that I feel a lot better. I’m slowly and gradually losing weight, a pound or two a week.

Back in September, when I started counting calories, I took out my tape measure and noted down some numbers.

The other day, when I was feeling a bit down, I decided to check my measurements.

The difference is dramatic. I can feel it in my clothes, but seeing the centimeters melt away really provided a much-needed boost.

Ongoing Debate

I know there’s a lot of debate about what constitutes a healthy diet. It’s one of those irrationally emotional arguments we get into.

Much like politics or religion, diet and nutrition are fast becoming one of those topics you shouldn’t raise at a dinner party.

I am in no way qualified to tell others what is best for them. All I know is that I have rarely felt better than I do now.

Not even when I lost weight successfully on Weight Watchers or during my short-lived stretch on Noom.

If I’m feeling good physically, emotionally (though there are still ups and downs), and about the way I look, then I figure I’m doing something right.

And I’m going to stick with it.

Check On Your Extroverts

Jane 2 Comments

This morning my very dearest friend sent me a quick Whatsapp message.

“Hey, I’m free. Do you want to talk?”

“Do I want to talk??” I thought.

IS THE POPE CATHOLIC?!

DO BEARS DO THEIR BUSINESS IN THE WOODS?!?!

Yes. Absolutely. Yes I want to talk.

Her Spider Senses

My friend has a sixth sense for these kinds of things. She just seems to know instinctively when she’s needed.

Something must have told her that a little chat wouldn’t go amiss, and despite being in the office and having plenty of work to do, she gave me a call on her lunch break.

She’s a doctor. She’s done a residency in psychiatry. Psychology is a large part of her job. She has an idea of how different kinds of people are handling the pandemic.

She also knows me very well, and knows that I’m an incorrigible extrovert.

A Breath of Fresh Air

Hearing her voice was a breath of fresh air for me.

I’m very much a people person. If I cannot get social contact, if I cannot meet with other people, whether they be dear friends or even other parents on the playground, I wilt.

Seriously. I wilt.

I feel a hollowing out inside me, I feel a crushing loneliness, and I retreat to a gloomy place in my head.

That’s not to say that I can’t be alone. I very much enjoy my alone time. But I need it balanced with social time.

So when I got on the phone with my friend, though I had so many questions to ask her, and so much I wanted to catch up on with her, I proceeded to talk her ear off.

Kicking Myself

It was, necessarily, a quick call. My friend had to get back to work and I had to get my day started.

When we rang off, I stopped and thought, “Gah! I wanted to ask her about _____. I didn’t ask how _____ went!”

I had been so busy gabbing like a goose that I forgot to listen. It happens sometimes.

I regretted instantly how I had squandered our short call on seemingly unimportant blather. I ached to get her back on the phone and say, “Your turn!”

Sadly, it will have to wait until the next time we have a free moment.

Check On Your Extroverts

What my friend did today was a good deed.

That’s not to say that I was the only one who derived any pleasure from our talk. We enjoy chatting and listening to each other in equal measure. I know that it’s a pleasure for me to sit and listen to her when she needs it, and I have no doubt she feels the same way.

But she thought to herself, “I know an extremely extroverted person who is in social isolation right now. She probably needs a call.” And that was a Very Nice Thing.

A friend on Facebook posted this the other day:

Check on your extroverts, after 8 months of this, we are not ok. I miss people. Zoom is not a replacement.

K.M. ON FACEBOOK

PREACH, SISTER.

An Invitation

I invite you all to do as my friend did this morning and check in on someone you think might need it.

I call my Dad daily. If I’m seriously extroverted, I get it from somewhere. That somewhere is most definitely my Dad.

He and I alternate chatting and listening, and while we can drive each other nuts, we also get a lot of joy out of our talks.

Even if you’re handling this situation just fine, and you don’t feel the need to reach out, do it.

Think of that friend, that relative you know to be struggling with the isolation. It could be an irrepressibly bubbly friend, or it could be an elderly relation who misses contact with family.

Extroverts tend to have the highest highs and the lowest lows. It happens to anyone who is slightly off an even keel.

A call from you may just be the high the extrovert in your life needs.

A Review of “Knitting Comfortably”

Jane 2 Comments

I’m an old dog.

Well, maybe not old. But definitely middle-aged! And learning new tricks is no picnic.

Regular readers will know that I have been off the needles again. The knitting needles, that is.

In an effort to reduce discomfort and avoid injury, I purchased myself a copy of Carson Demers’ book Knitting Comfortably: the Ergonomics of Hand Knitting.

It arrived the other day, and I have learned many, many things. For instance…

I’M DOING IT ALL WRONG!

I exaggerate. (But not much.)

Posture? WRONG. Knitting chair? WRONG. Lighting? WRONG. Yarn tensioning? WRONG. Pairing needles and yarn? WRONG.

You get the idea.

Okay, to be fair, it’s not a question of right or wrong. It’s a question of ergonomics, and balancing productivity, efficiency and safety.

A Balancing Act

In his book, Demers makes it very clear that there is no incorrect way to knit: no one method that is superior to any other (though there is one he pooh-poohs).

How we knit is a balancing act, and he uses the image of the 3-legged stool to demonstrate. Ergonomics (or comfort) is the seat, and the three legs are what I mentioned above: productivity, efficiency and safety.

He then breaks down the elements that contribute to each of those three aspects of ergonomics and addresses them in relation to knitting.

My favorite part of this book is that Demers is himself a knitter, and truly understands how much knitters love their craft. He is just as passionate about yarn and patterns as the next knitter is!

He pairs his understanding of the knitter’s psyche with his expertise in ergonomics brilliantly, and the result is an engaging, clear and easy to understand (and apply!) book.

Applying the Concepts

You can start applying the concepts from the get-go. He begins with a discussion of posture, which (according to the physical therapist I saw back in early 2020) is the source of my problem.

What the physical therapist could not tell me (because she is not a knitter and didn’t even pay attention when I showed her how I knit), is exactly how my posture was causing me pain.

One chapter into this book, I already had significant changes I could apply. And since I had been on complete knitting rest for 10 days or so, I was starting with a clean slate and could gingerly experiment.

Here’s where the old dog factor comes in.

Old Dog; New Tricks

You know what they say…

I learned to knit in 2012 or 2013. It’s not like I’ve been knitting forever. But once you get comfortable with it, it then becomes very hard to change how you knit.

I had already made an effort to change the way I tension my yarn (you can see my video in this post). However, that wasn’t enough to remove the pressure from my shoulder.

More drastic changes were clearly in order.

In addition to changing where I knit, I have to change how I hold my knitting. Up until now I’ve tended to hold my knitting up to look at it more easily, but doing so pulls my shoulder forward and puts pressure on both my shoulder and my elbow.

What I need to do is lower my knitting into my lap (or to a cushion on my lap) and try and keep my forearms parallel to the floor. It’s not easy to do this, as my arms have a tendency to creep up as I keep wanting to look down at my knitting.

But part of the exercise is to learn to trust that my hands know what they’re doing, and that unless I’m working a complicated stitch pattern, they can be left to their own devices, with only an occasional glace.

It needs practice, and I must constantly check in with myself to see how my shoulder is handling it. So far, so good.

Don’t Overdo It

Another change is a behavioral one: I mustn’t allow myself to sit and knit for long stretches of time. We’re always told that sitting for long periods is bad for us.

But that’s so easy to forget when we’re doing something as enjoyable as knitting!

I need to set a timer, or simply stand up to knit. I’ve got to remember to give myself plenty of breaks and ease back into it.

Not Just About Knitting

Demers’ observations and advice apply not only to knitting, but to any sedentary activity (think: using the computer, poking at your smartphone, or driving).

All of these activities involve neck strain (looking down), pressure on wrists, elbows and shoulders, and awkward postures.

So this information is not only valuable in the context of knitting, but also for computer and keyboard use, smartphone use and driving.

Final Word

Don’t buy this book unless you’re a knitter. I don’t think it would even be that helpful for crocheters (though you could definitely get some useful information from it).

But if you ARE a knitter, no matter whether you’re experiencing discomfort or not, YOU SHOULD READ THIS BOOK.

Not only will it help you improve your knitting comfort immediately, it will open your eyes to some potentially unhealthy habits that can endanger your long-term knitting ability.

Don’t risk it. It’s not worth it. If you love your knitting as much as I do, you’ll want to make sure you can keep knitting comfortably for as long as possible.

Click here to visit Carson’s website and order your own copy. (I have not been paid to write this article, and clicking this link doesn’t give me–or Carson Demers–any money. Unless, of course, you buy his book, which would give him money. Not me. But if you want to send me money, I am on PayPal. Just saying.)