tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-295048282024-03-07T01:05:46.646-08:00Planet BuchananWelcome to my UniverseKim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-19052496474741129552023-03-23T09:11:00.000-07:002023-03-23T09:11:23.773-07:00Be Careful What You Wish For<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_44z3xePJSR99mK3jQs6PvI3688pfw9brLpav0X7zsmEvYIyAb-cW5MwgEYh3TPQHVjC1ffkm_6jCSQhjJRh6gKz6L21l1nZJ-ro4gLdCJ44hDYQHZaRIGDspX7Sq6mcwD10CsHj3JKFk4JOyrRay63v3fg5sqctO1xCkLgY6u5e7e-Ltw/s1734/IMG_0983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1734" data-original-width="1290" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_44z3xePJSR99mK3jQs6PvI3688pfw9brLpav0X7zsmEvYIyAb-cW5MwgEYh3TPQHVjC1ffkm_6jCSQhjJRh6gKz6L21l1nZJ-ro4gLdCJ44hDYQHZaRIGDspX7Sq6mcwD10CsHj3JKFk4JOyrRay63v3fg5sqctO1xCkLgY6u5e7e-Ltw/s320/IMG_0983.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><br />As so often happens with my daily card pull, today's card from Mike Dooley's "Notes from the Universe on Abundance" deck got my wheels turning. I was thinking about the saying "be careful what you wish for" and the importance of being clear on what we want or need. I admit that I lean toward paranoia when it comes to blowing out my birthday candles and making a wish. For example, I don't wish for money. What if I got that money as a result of a serious accident, or one of my parents passed away and I inherited it? I typically wish for "happiness and good health for myself and my loved ones." That feels safe. <p></p><p>I do believe that our thoughts and words have power. I do believe that if I obsess over something negative happening, it is more likely to happen. I have experienced it. Whether we are subconsciously making choices that lead us to that outcome, or there is some greater force at work, I can't say. I just know that, in my experience, the energy behind your thoughts and actions matter.</p><p>In January, I took a workshop on manifesting. The idea is that you figure out what you really want, and you put only positive energy toward it. The key is to be specific. You can't just say "I want financial freedom" and expect your bank account to triple overnight with no action on your part. That's not how it works. As with everything in life, there are no easy solutions. More importantly, what if financial freedom means you lose everything that weighs you down financially? Or you come into a large amount of money, but suffer a terrible loss as a result? Sounds like my birthday wish conundrum, doesn't it?</p><p>A few years ago, a couple of people in my life were looking for their ideal partner. I asked each of them to make a list of the characteristics they wanted in a mate. I told them to be as specific as possible. A year ago, one of them started dating someone and I'll be darned if they didn't check every single item on their wish list! </p><p>Today's card is a reminder to take a step back and evaluate what it is you think you want. Then drill down and get specific. Do you want a new job? Or do you want a job that you can't wait to wake up to each day because it fills your soul and serves a bigger purpose, all while providing the salary you need to live a comfortable lifestyle? Do you want a partner? Or do you want a soul mate that makes you laugh and brings joy into your life? It is worth the time and energy to make a detailed list of exactly what you want and what it will look like when you get it. After all, be careful what you wish for - because you just might get it.</p>Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-16076925453687804632021-01-20T14:28:00.002-08:002021-01-20T14:28:24.441-08:00Grieving<p>Grief is a strange thing. I've come to learn that there is no typical time frame for when it starts or ends. I'm not even sure if it ever truly stops. Case in point: a picture popped up in my Facebook memories recently, and out of nowhere I broke into tears. I was caught off guard, but something I've been struggling with finally made sense.</p><p>The beauty on the right is my Auntie. She died two years ago. We were only 6 years apart in age, and in many ways, she was like a big sister to me. Among other things, we shared a love of the Seattle Seahawks. This picture was taken on January 18, 2015. We went away for the weekend to celebrate birthdays for my mom and my daughter at a local casino. While my mom and daughter played slot machines, Auntie and I watched the Seahawks clinch their Superbowl bid in a nail-biter of a game against the Green Bay Packers. We typically spent game days at our separate homes, texting each other frantically throughout the game. This was the only time that she and I watched a game together in person, and it will be a memory I will cherish forever. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhpAqmi0wzGcJ6G15-deHTZwTRtPR-zbEW9rQh5C0dFXKMyFfQTXAaYY1uLOquiJUp9gEbcVEWJa_M6xG6B2xfvYy_WVPLrcFLCoqNUyi0EnzPdSkrb_xvcIG2ra3S05unzc8/s664/me+and+auntie+january+2015.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="664" data-original-width="572" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhpAqmi0wzGcJ6G15-deHTZwTRtPR-zbEW9rQh5C0dFXKMyFfQTXAaYY1uLOquiJUp9gEbcVEWJa_M6xG6B2xfvYy_WVPLrcFLCoqNUyi0EnzPdSkrb_xvcIG2ra3S05unzc8/s320/me+and+auntie+january+2015.png" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Like any good sports fan, Auntie and I had rituals that we lived by when it came to our beloved Seahawks. We participated in "Blue Fridays" - wearing Seahawks blue to support the team on what coach Pete Carroll likes to call "the day before the day before." We would text pictures to each other of what we were wearing or send a confirmatory text, "Are you repping Blue Friday?" On game day, Auntie would have a vanilla latte in the morning and a bowl of mixed nuts on hand during the game. She had a specific Seahawks t-shirt that she considered her "lucky t-shirt," so if we had a tough opponent that week, she would be sure to wear her "mean guy" shirt - a cartoon image of a Seahawks player with an angry face. Our team rarely makes it easy on their fans. Most games come down to the final minutes and involve a lot of taking the lead and then losing the lead. I developed a habit of plowing through a bag of sunflower seeds during the games, cracking shell after shell to save my fingernails and ease my anxiety. We would text each other before kickoff: <div><br /></div><div>Me: Are you wearing the mean guy shirt? Got your latte and nuts close by?</div><div><br /></div><div>Auntie: Yes! Are you ready for kick-off? Do you have your seeds? </div><div><br /></div><div>And this is how we would launch into every game. For the next 3 hours, we would be texting game commentary back and forth: "BAM BAM KAM!" and "Where's the O-line?" and the occasional "Shut the F* up" directed to the commentators. (Auntie was not a fan of many of the NFL commentators, but she particularly took aim at Cris Collinsworth, Joe Buck, and Troy Aikman, who she felt never gave the Seahawks the respect they deserved.)</div><div><br /></div><div>On Sunday, October 28, 2018, the Seahawks were going up against the Detroit Lions with a 10 am start time. I sent my typical pre-game text a few minutes before kick-off. No response. I sent a comment following the first big play of the game. No response. I tried to call her. No answer. Something didn't feel right. I called my mom and asked if she had talked to my aunt, her baby sister, that morning. Mom said she had spoken to her the day before and that Auntie hadn't been feeling well. Mom had tried to convince her to go to the ER, but my aunt could be stubborn. My mom ended up calling my Auntie's son, who lived close by. He drove over to her house and had the unfortunate experience of discovering she had passed. We were all numb. </div><div><br /></div><div>A month later, family and friends gathered in their Seahawks gear to honor her life in the only way we knew how - watching the Seahawks overcome the Carolina Panthers with a field goal as the clock ran out. The rest of that football season is a complete blur.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3THuooY2Kw-wtJoQe8mPRiWX23BxIWLn7B59YsRI3otx0L0HRpcy3GR6IKTrca980af2msDF6CjrCvMk0HOkf9Kjy1ydJtm5d5WlNOPvCxIGcHLPs_6KOl7luyVuCNbiEXoKN/s2002/auntie+memorial.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2002" data-original-width="1126" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3THuooY2Kw-wtJoQe8mPRiWX23BxIWLn7B59YsRI3otx0L0HRpcy3GR6IKTrca980af2msDF6CjrCvMk0HOkf9Kjy1ydJtm5d5WlNOPvCxIGcHLPs_6KOl7luyVuCNbiEXoKN/w158-h281/auntie+memorial.JPG" width="158" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQYke-0f6smHnS0_FKkLZWBXouJ2mZxhfuAgRtld1KdWw27dcIHCJdCv4639pWChXoOEpDcF_tJddSfKLjWXGoVsfC_prOH0Syqvh3cd3DtZPTfZk10p3QLqfHpqs0bbTcs-w/s2002/auntie.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2002" data-original-width="1126" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQYke-0f6smHnS0_FKkLZWBXouJ2mZxhfuAgRtld1KdWw27dcIHCJdCv4639pWChXoOEpDcF_tJddSfKLjWXGoVsfC_prOH0Syqvh3cd3DtZPTfZk10p3QLqfHpqs0bbTcs-w/w161-h286/auntie.JPG" width="161" /></a></div></div><div><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Great turnout!<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> My Auntie</span></span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5CuXVPs0bYv98ZDQ21K-aOot1UjD_2umnRBnBWI16eZQRgvnSV88qbZwynqwyFUFi74b-6VL2b41OOsB98AvOXbgSR_99XKcodv2MmltPX0qcgzcdGdFhZCrAPKyZUihcAQt/s1615/family+at+auntie%2527s+memorial.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1126" data-original-width="1615" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5CuXVPs0bYv98ZDQ21K-aOot1UjD_2umnRBnBWI16eZQRgvnSV88qbZwynqwyFUFi74b-6VL2b41OOsB98AvOXbgSR_99XKcodv2MmltPX0qcgzcdGdFhZCrAPKyZUihcAQt/s320/family+at+auntie%2527s+memorial.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My little family at the memorial</div><br /><div>I dove into the 2019 football season "in her honor." I watched every game and had "conversations" with her and about her. I would yell at the commentators on my Auntie's behalf. I would say to my husband, "Auntie would have loved that play" or "I can hear my Auntie cussing all the way from heaven." I also joined a family fantasy football league, and the ability to banter with them over text each weekend helped to fill the massive void. The season didn't end well for the Seahawks, but, like many seasons before it, I felt hopeful about what would come.</div><div><p>And then COVID hit.</p><p>Lockdowns, delays, mandatory social distancing, and masks. Everything about 2020 was different, and football was no exception. As the 2020 season approached, I was having a difficult time summoning my enthusiasm for football. At the last minute, I backed out of the family fantasy league. Games started, and I found a million reasons not to watch them. </p><p>I blamed my malaise on the stress of the global pandemic. My husband is immunocompromised and is in the high-risk category. We put ourselves into lockdown weeks before the rest of the world. While I have always worked from home, he transitioned to remote working in early March, which was an adjustment for both of us. Before COVID, we had rich and busy lives, filled with friends and family and travel. Everything came to a screeching halt. This is not unique to us. But for me, at least, the isolation and lack of busyness have allowed things that have been put on a back burner to come into the light. Things like grief. </p><p>This is the puzzle piece that finally fell into place for me about why I have not been able to embrace football this year. It wasn't COVID. The pandemic contributed, but it wasn't the cause. The cause was grief. I powered through the first season without her because that's what I do when I'm in crisis - push through, look for a quick solution to get me through the tough moment, and deal with the bigger feelings when the crisis is over. The pandemic provided the slowdown for me to finally process the loss of my Auntie. </p><p>Ironically, after my meltdown over the Facebook memory, I was busying myself by doing some organizing (another strategy of mine to avoid the inevitable), and I came across a notebook where I had written a memorial to my aunt. My cousin had asked me to write up something to share at her memorial. It turned out that they didn't need me to speak, but I held on to the draft of what I had come up with. This is an excerpt:</p><p><i>I am honored to be asked to share a few thoughts about this special person. Daughter, sister, mother, aunt, grandmother, coworker, friend, I am sure everyone in this room knew a slightly different Annette. The Auntie I knew was most proud of these 3 accomplishments: her 2 amazing children and, by extension, her 3 grandchildren; earning her college degree; and the fact that she had recently been named Seattle Seahawks Coach Pete Carroll's #1 fan on Facebook. </i></p><p><i>My Auntie was an avid Husky football fan. She would have been overjoyed by the Apple Cup results this week. She was a diehard Seahawks fan that never missed a game. After almost losing her 4 years ago, she and I developed a weekly routine of texting each other during Seahawks games. No matter how grim things looked, she never gave up on her team. When I moved to live streaming the games, there was a slight time delay. She would see plays before me, and she quickly learned to say things like "get ready" or "you won't believe it." She didn't want to spoil it for me. The Auntie I knew was thoughtful like that. She was enthusiastic and loyal and supportive.</i></p><p><i>She could also be annoyingly controlling and negative and strong-willed. She liked things her way. Sometimes her stubbornness drove me crazy. But she had a smile that could light up a room. She had a great sense of humor and an infectious laugh. While she sometimes struggled to express it, she loved deeply. This is the Annette I was lucky enough to know, and I will miss her terribly. </i></p><p><br /></p><p>I recently read an article on the topic of grief, "<a href="https://hbr.org/2020/03/that-discomfort-youre-feeling-is-grief" target="_blank">That Discomfort You're Feeling is Grief.</a>" While it primarily focuses on the grief many are feeling as a result of the pandemic, it provides excellent advice for moving through grief, starting with identifying it and then learning to accept it. The author states, "Acceptance, as you might imagine, is where the power lies." </p><p>The 2020 Seahawks season wrapped up recently. I didn't watch a single Seahawks game. I still can't believe it. I have no idea how I will feel when the 2021 season starts in August, but I am hopeful that finally identifying and addressing my grief will help me to move forward with my heart and eyes open. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-4091459256483632532011-09-05T14:50:00.000-07:002011-09-05T16:15:19.500-07:00It's All About Me<span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" >I ran into a colleague I haven't seen in a long time at a conference I attended for my professional association a few weeks ago. She has dropped over 100 pounds. She had some questions for me about the industry we share and I had questions for her about her successful weight loss, so we sat down to catch up. She shared some concepts with me that I have heard from other people that have managed to drop a significant amount of weight and keep it off.</span><br /><ul><li><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" >To be successful, you have to get to the point where you are doing it FOR YOU and not for anyone else.</span></li></ul><ul><li><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" >At the core of it all - it really isn't about the food. To maintain success, you are committing to a healthier lifestyle.</span></li></ul><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" >I have a very busy life: a full-time job, a wonderfully supportive husband, 3 amazing children, 2 dogs, a great niece that I help babysit a few days a week, a handful of committees I volunteer on, a couple of pleasurable hobbies that offer a creative or educational outlet, and an array of close friends and family that help to round out my life. There are very few quiet moments. Very few opportunities for peaceful reflection. Rare chances to do absolutely nothing without feeling guilty.</span></div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" ><br />Did I mention I am a caretaker? A rescuer? A co-dependent? I suffer from "savior syndrome." I'm a fixer. I have trouble setting boundaries and using the word "no." </span><br /><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" ><br />It can be flattering to have people valuing your opinion or wanting your advice. It can feel good to be "needed" or relied upon. But there comes a time when what I really need is time for me. Uninterrupted, quiet, guilt-free time alone. Time to do what I want to do. All of this care taking gets overwhelming.<br /><br />So back to my friend's advice - </span><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" >To be successful, you have to get to the point where you are doing it FOR YOU and not for anyone else.</span><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" > </span></div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" ><br />I love walking. I love the solitude of walking laps around the junior high track by our house - just me and my headset. It's a bonus that it happens to be as good for my heart as it is for my soul. So after talking with my colleague at the conference a few weeks ago, I made a commitment to myself to start each and every day with a walk FOR ME. My time. </span><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" >It will send a positive message to me that I am worth it. That I matter. If I can set an alarm to get up for a conference call or to take a friend to the airport or accompany a kid to an appointment, why can't I set an alarm to get up and spend the first part of each day doing something I love and something that is good for me? I can, I will, and I have! </span><br /><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;font-family:Tahoma;font-size:medium;" ><br />I have walked every morning for the past 15 days straight. My goal is 2 miles or 30 minutes minimum every day. So far I have logged just a little over 40 miles. Some days I push myself to make the minimum, other days I easily double it. But I'm sticking to it - and the message is getting through. I deserve this time to myself. It's not selfish. Taking care of myself can feel just as good as taking care of someone else. Thank you, Lois, for helping me see that.</span></div>Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-32278961190359956112010-04-17T13:07:00.000-07:002010-04-17T14:40:01.751-07:00GOOD READ: The Road of Lost Innocence<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUXDANnOelJVBMM08vjhjKmEx4GxC1P0o3blCpWbXWnsVBjxRxkYEXRzuuoZ4emfZD7rDnGNvfN0TQgSfUvSBxafKkPCrTUuQmipdUzfPE_oSamI_6VJAJUJ0sPVHjk0gk9N2/s1600/somaly.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 82px; height: 122px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUXDANnOelJVBMM08vjhjKmEx4GxC1P0o3blCpWbXWnsVBjxRxkYEXRzuuoZ4emfZD7rDnGNvfN0TQgSfUvSBxafKkPCrTUuQmipdUzfPE_oSamI_6VJAJUJ0sPVHjk0gk9N2/s320/somaly.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461223930795175954" /></a><br />I just finished reading a heart-breaking yet inspiring book called "The Road of Lost Innocence," by Somaly Mam. The author tells the story of her childhood as a sex slave in Cambodia with gut-wrenching candor. Somaly Mam has taken her horrible experiences and turned them into a driving passion to save others from a similar fate. She founded a Cambodia-based organization(AFESIP)a decade ago that exists to rescue victims of the sex trade industry from brothels. Her organization works with law enforcement to conduct raids, provides the victims with safe housing, teaches them to read and write, and trains them in a marketable trade like tailoring, agriculture and cosmetology. She has also opened a US-based nonprofit organization called the Somaly Mam Foundation with the same fundamental goals.<br /><br />I am embarrassed to admit that prior to reading this book I was very naive about the human trafficking epidemic that is running rampant both at home and abroad. Human trafficking has become the second largest organized crime in the world, even surpassing drug trafficking. Somewhere between 2 and 4 million women and children will be sold into prostitution in the next 12 months - some of these victims as young as 5 years old. Cultural factors, poverty, illiteracy, and corruption all contribute to this growing industry. <br /><br />I dare you to read this book and not be haunted by its message. Somaly Mam is a heroine in every aspect of the word. She survived horrific circumstances in her early life and yet she is truly making a difference in thousands of women's lives. There is no "woe is me" in her vocabulary! The world would be a better place if we had more of her kind around.<br /><br />I urge you to purchase a copy of her book "The Road of Lost Innocence" and then tell all your friends. A portion of the proceeds are donated to the Somaly Mam Foundation and go to further her efforts on behalf of the victims of human trafficking. You might also visit www.somaly.org. There are opportunities to get involved, donate money, or purchase items that help to support the foundation.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-15686650375723445982010-04-06T15:44:00.000-07:002010-04-06T16:57:28.536-07:00Deciphering Medical DictationIn my roles as an educator and a mentor in the medical transcription industry for the past 9+ years, I have assisted a lot of new transcriptionists along their journey to become productive MTs. One of the most common issues new MTs have is hearing all of the words being dictated. Today I had a student who is studying for her RMT exam write to me for advice on how to fill in blanks and not miss the little words being dictated. The following is my proven method for tackling both problems at once.
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<br />1. Listen through the dictation the first time and transcribe everything you can easily hear. Leave blanks for anything you aren't sure of. (Feel free to leave yourself "sounds like" clues in your blanks.)
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<br />2. Read through what you transcribed WITHOUT THE VOICE FILE. Correct any obvious grammar and/or spelling errors. Read the report like you would a story - connecting the dots in your mind and making sense of what you are reading. You may be able to fill in some blanks this way.
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<br />3. Go back over the dictation a third time - this time listening to the voice file and stopping on your blanks. Don't spend more than 5 minutes per blank. If you're struggling to make out a word, try writing it down phonetically. Then try pronouncing it out loud by putting the emphasis on different syllabus. For example, you hear what sounds like "eye-bip-row-fin." Say it the first time out loud emphasizing the first syllable: EYE-bip-row-fin. Then: eye-BIP-row-fin. Then: eye-bip-ROW-fin, etc. Then try running some of the syllables together: eye-biprow-fin. Or eyebip-rowfin. In the case of this example, hopefully you will eventually hear "ibuprofen."
<br />
<br />4. Go over the transcription one last time without the voice file - again reading out loud and trying to understand the story being told.
<br />
<br />5. If you end up having to submit the report with blanks, it is imperative that you go back over the report when your instructor or QA person completes it. If you have the opportunity to listen again to the voice file, I highly recommend it. This way you start to make the connection between what you are hearing and what belongs in those elusive blanks.
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<br /></span></span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:11pt;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> Learning to decipher medical-ese is like learning any other foreign language. You can't just learn the words using flash cards - you have to hear the words used in "conversation" to truly grasp the language. You will find that there are certain phrases that you hear over and over again: well-developed, well-nourished; no wheezes, rales, or rhonchi; alert and oriented x3. Over time you will almost be able to predict what is being dictated next. And that's when you know you've arrived!
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<br />The truth is, you can master anything that you spend valuable time practicing. The only way to master the language of medicine is by repeatedly being exposed to it. Watch medical shows on TV, listen to medical podcasts online, and concentrate when you sit down to the keyboard to do your work - whether for an instructor or your employer. At the end of the day, always aim to do your best. Treat every medical record you work on as if it was your own.
<br />Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-72008137093989526632009-09-06T09:30:00.000-07:002009-09-06T10:29:08.758-07:00I LOVE: Teavana TeasA great friend introduced me to <a href="http://www.teavana.com">Teavana Teas</a> last Christmas when she gave me the 16 ounce Perfect Tea Maker and a bag of Rooibos Sweet Amore tea as a gift. I have been a tea drinker for as long as a I can remember - raised on hot tea with a little bit of sugar or a dash of milk, maybe the occasional cup of Market Spice Tea (made at Pike Place Market in Seattle), or a tall glass of iced tea on a hot day. I have never been a fan of traditional herbal teas, though. Until now... Teavana has opened my eyes! <div><br /></div><div>A trip to a Teavana retail store is an adventure for the senses. Loose leaf teas are arranged by category in colorful tins lining a large bookshelf - white teas, green teas, oolong teas, black, pu-erh, herbal, rooibos, mate, decaf, organic, and blooming teas - each with dozens of individual flavors to choose from. (Check out Teavana.com and click on "virtual tea wall" to see what I mean!) The employees are standing by to help you pick the perfect tea and will spend as much time as you need pulling down these large tins and allowing you to enjoy the different aromas. They are extremely knowledgeable about the health benefits and caffeine content of each of their teas, and can make excellent suggestions about ways to combine them to create your own custom blends to maximize both flavor and health benefits (I'm currently a fan of a custom blend to help with digestion and weight loss made with monkey-picked oolong, strawberry slender pu-erh, mate lemon blast, and imperial acai blueberry.)</div><div><br /></div><div>If seeing and smelling aren't good enough, there are always free samples of both hot and cold custom blends to tantalize your taste buds. It's a great way to try something new without having to spend a penny. If you find something you like, you can order a drink to go from their beverage bar. Or purchase a bag of loose leaf to take home.</div><div><br /></div><div>Loose leaf teas are sold by the ounce, so you can buy as little or as much as you like. They package them in foil-lined bags to preserve the flavors - or you can purchase metal tins to extend the shelf life (and they look great lined up in your cupboards at home). They even sell a variety of pretty tins to match your every mood.</div><div><br /></div><div>On a rainy day in Seattle, there is nothing better than a hot cup of tea and a good book. Which is exactly what I'm planning to do now.</div>Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-19685624639344816072009-06-19T09:31:00.000-07:002009-06-19T09:33:20.884-07:00Woman to Cycle Across America in Support of Military SpousesThis is from an organization I have worked with to help bring military spouses into the medical transcription industry. A very dedicated group of individuals with a noble cause.<br /><br />Operation Life Transformed<br />For Immediate Release<br /><br /><br />Riding Across America for our military<br />HeadQuarters - WoodBridge, Virgina- June 19, 2009<br />Jeannie Benton, a 51 year old female from Bedford, NH, has chosen to seek pledges for Operation Life Transformed by pursuing her first cross country bike ride endeavor exceeding 3600 miles.<br /><br />A dream that has sat at idle over 12 years to ride across America is becoming unveiled over the next 6 ½ weeks. Jeannie Benton, a 32 year resident of Bedford, NH, believed she would ride the distance one day, but she wanted to do it with purpose. It was at the health club about 12 years ago when she started getting involved in spinning and strength training classes that she realized her ability for endurance on the bike. Jeannie began doing one-day cycling events for fun and for charities and it was then that she started to dream about the idea of riding across America! She is a special education, Para Professional and mom of four grown children. Her ride will start June 21st from Astoria Oregon and will end on August 10th in Portsmouth, NH totaling 3625 miles across the Northern United States.<br /><br />Operation Life Transformed, established in February of 2007, provides access to flexible accredited online certification programs that lead directly to virtual or portable career placement. These services are offered to military spouses and caregivers of the war wounded. We can also extend our assistance to the military sponsor including; active duty, reserve, National Guard and Veteran service members who have unmet needs due to injury, physical/mental disorders or deployment as a result of service in Iraq or Afghanistan. OLT is expecting to see over 200 students graduate with full job placement by August of 2009. In 2008, over 86% of all monies donated went directly to OLT’s program.<br />Please join us as we she embarks on her journey across America in support of our military spouses and caregivers of the war wounded around the world!<br /><br />Learn more: <a href="http://www.operationlifetransformed.org/ra.html" target="_blank">http://www.operationlifetransformed.org/ra.html</a><br /><br />Follow Jeannie’s Ride: <a href="http://exchange.aamt.org:8008/exchweb/bin/redir.asp?URL=http://twitter.com/LifeTransformed" target="_blank">http://twitter.com/LifeTransformed</a> <br /><br />Contacts: Operation Life Transformed<br />Jay Brethen, Grant Development and Fundraising 619-884-0518<br />Kristina Saul, National Outreach Program Manager 770-445-5286Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-48933776479416306642009-01-11T22:32:00.000-08:002009-01-11T22:50:53.454-08:00BOOK REVIEW: Newfound Medical Thriller AuthorI just finished the first of what I expect to be many great medical thrillers by Vancouver, BC, ER physician Daniel Kalla.  I found him while searching Barnes and Noble for medical thriller writers that I had not previously read.  I wanted to send some to my step-mom for Christmas.  By using the "Fans of this book also ordered..." feature, I found my way to Daniel Kalla and quickly scooped up 3 titles.  I shipped 2 to my step-mom and kept <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Rage Therapy </span>for myself.  What caught my interest almost immediately about Daniel Kalla's books are that some are centered around Seattle, WA.  Who can resist a good thriller placed right in your own back yard?  <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">Rage Therapy </span>is the story of a widowed psychiatrist (Joel Ashman) who consults with the Seattle Police Department doing criminal profiles.  When his ex-business partner, the esteemed psychiatrist Stanley Kolberg, is found brutally murdered in his office, Joel is called in to help solve the crime.  He soon learns that his ex-mentor was involved in a seedy world of S&M and surrounded himself with a host of shady characters.  When Kolberg's partner, Dr. Nichols, is also found murdered, Joel knows he is likely to be next.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Rage Therapy</span> was a real page-turner.  The characters were engaging, the plot moved quickly, and there were enough twists and turns to keep my interest.  If you're looking for a quick read with a great story line - I recommend you run out and get this one!</div><div><br /></div><div>For more information on Daniel Kalla, check out www.danielkalla.com </div>Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-34454840116161176262008-10-27T11:04:00.000-07:002008-10-27T11:06:19.026-07:00Goodbye Common SenseGot this in an email today and just had to share it.<br /><br />An Obituary printed in the London Times<br /><br />Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old hewas, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessonsas:<br /><br />Knowing when to come in out of the rain;<br />Why the early bird gets the worm;<br />Life isn't always fair; and maybe it was my fault.<br /><br />Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children,are in charge). <br /><br />His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boycharged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.<br /><br />Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.<br /><br />It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an Aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.<br /><br />Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.<br /><br />Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from aburglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.<br /><br />Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.<br /><br />Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his daughter, Responsibility, and by his son, Reason. He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers;<br /><br />I Know My Rights<br />I Want It Now<br />Someone Else Is To Blame<br />I'm A Victim<br /><br />Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-74943667654466839192008-09-30T23:03:00.000-07:002008-09-30T23:12:52.628-07:00Where Are The Critical Thinking Skills??I'm working on a project for my job that has me really analyzing the skill set involved in critical thinking. Naturally, examples of critical thinking - or more often, not using critical thinking - seem to be popping up all around me.<br /><br />Tonight we were on our way home from a run to the local Costco when we came upon some road work just getting started. We watched a police officer go to the traffic light control box and turn the traffic lights into flashing red lights. There were 2 cars in front of us - and no one moved. The police officer waved the first car through the intersection, but the second one just sat there. I think they were waiting for either the light to turn green or the cop to wave them through. Finally the cop made a hand motion to them - pointing to the light and showing that it was flashing red, and the car pulled forward. My husband was fit to be tied. He was yelling to no one in particular "flashing red means treat it like a 4-way stop!" <br /><br />It made me realize how our society tends to wait to be told what to do. Where are the critical thinking skills? Why should we have to be reminded that flashing red lights mean stop and proceed in turns?<br /><br />Which reminded me of a great You Tube video that was sent to me via email the other day. Another fine example of lack of critical thinking. Check it out if you need a good chuckle. Then consider the tragic nature of a country full of people who are incapable of thinking for themselves. <br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S13LwVDJb0E">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S13LwVDJb0E</a>Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-77267520337816192582008-05-22T22:44:00.000-07:002008-05-22T23:00:25.405-07:00Two years already?Today, May 22nd, marks 2 years since the open reduction/internal fixation (ORIF) procedure to correct my shattered ankle. Two whole years! I remember it like it was yesterday. As I prepare to turn in for the night, I can imagine exactly where I was at this time two years ago - in the hospital bed following surgery, complaining through 3 different nurse shifts about the numbing sensation that was working its way up from my ankle toward my kneecap. I remember persistently pushing the button on the PCA machine that administered my pain medication. I remember finally breaking down in tears just after midnight when the 3rd nurse took over for the night shift. I was starting to panic because the numbness was moving its way up my leg. I was having horrible thoughts of losing all feeling in my right leg and having to have it amputated. Imagine my surprise when the kind nurse who finally took time to listen to me (and had already changed my bed pan) turned on the overhead light and I realized she was a girl I went to high school with. Wow! Nothing humbles you quite like looking a childhood acquaintance in the eyes after she changed your bed pan and witnessed you having an emotional breakdown. Bless her heart - she listened to me. I told her that I thought the wrapping was too tight around my ankle and was causing me to lose feeling. She called the surgeon, explained the situation (and my self-diagnosis), and he gave her the okay to re-wrap the ankle. Ahhh...relief!<br /><br />I can easily picture myself in the same spot two years ago where I now lie - then with my ankle resting atop a stack of pillows, heavily wrapped in postsurgical gauze, and my mind swimming in Vicodin and sleeping pills. I remember the early days well - the frustrating nights of uncomfortable sleep; flipping and flopping, trying to find a position that would allow me to sleep for more than a few minutes before having to move again. I spent the first several days home in a Vicodin-induced stupor. You know you're in a lot of pain when you can't think of anything else.<br /><br />But flash forward 2 years - 24 months - and while the memories are still crystal clear, I feel almost normal again. Having the metal removed last October was absolutely the right decision. I only occasionally suffer from the painful aching when the weather is wet. I have a good amount of flexibility in the right ankle. It isn't perfect, but I'm managing. The scars are still ugly reminders of what I've been through, and I don't think I will ever be completely healed (physically, mentally, emotionally) - but I've certainly come a long way from where I was 2 years ago today.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-3121476710630245682008-02-09T10:46:00.001-08:002008-02-09T10:59:15.667-08:00There is Hope After allI just read an article at CNNMoney.com about the upcoming tax rebates. There is a chance that we will get a rebate. Yippee!! I didn't realize that the rebates are based on "adjusted gross income" - which will help. The goal is to get our tax return done and filed so that I can put this one to bed. Not to mention, I need to do it in order to fill out the FAFSA forms for our 2 college boys. That's always a fun day. It takes hours to pull all of the information together and fill out the numerous pages - which usually results in a message stating that we can afford to pay $30,000 per year out of pocket for each kid's college tuition. Um...right. That's more than we pay for our mortgage at the end of the year - and yet somehow we're supposed to have that kind of disposable cash available. It's important to keep your sense of humor intact at times like this.<br /><br />Yesterday I was telling a colleague at work that this entire week I have felt like I was running through mud. Expending lots and lots of energy, but not getting very far. I realized last night that I have felt "stuck" like this both at work and in my life outside of work. Lots of activity, but not a lot of progress. Definitely not much time for reflection or appreciation. And perhaps it is the busyness itself that has left me feeling stuck. I am motivated by production. I like to look back on a day at work and be able to say <em>I got something done today!</em> I like to feel that way at home too. Whether it's laundry, cleaning the kitchen, preparing a nice meal, or tackling a project. I feel better if I've accomplished something. I think where I get into trouble is when I lose focus. If I have an endless "to do" list but nothing is prioritized, I become overwhelmed. I really think I need to create a priority list and then approach each day with a single focused goal in mind. If I get that goal completed and manage to tackle others - BONUS!<br /><br />Of course, there are days when I need to achieve NOTHING in order to feel good. Those are good days too. Sleep in, spend some time reading for pleasure, maybe watch a movie with my kids, go for a walk, work on a puzzle. No deadlines, no expectations. I NEED those days to recharge my batteries - and I think I have finally recognized this and embraced it. <br /><br />I'm tackling the day today with a new perspective and a more focused plan for moving forward. There is, indeed, hope after all.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-42799667082005035982008-01-29T16:21:00.000-08:002008-01-29T16:38:15.342-08:00Political Rant - Brace Yourself!Today our wonderful US House of Representatives passed the "stimulus package." The solution to the economic crisis in America. This is the plan that will provide tax rebates for individuals who really haven't paid much in taxes - but gives nothing to those hard-working Americans like my husband and I. We work hard to make ends meet and hand over a good portion of our earnings in the form of taxes - but we are literally ignored when it comes time for rebates. Once again, the government will take money we have worked hard to earn - and hand it over to those "less fortunate." <br /><br />Don't get me wrong - I'm all for helping those in need. But I am struggling to understand how I can continue to teach my children to be self-sufficient, when our government continues to reward those that are not. My husband and I are currently paying for two kids in college. We were told we made too much money to qualify for any financial aid - so we have had to take out substantial educational loans. Consequently, I work a full-time job, plus a part-time job, and my husband works a full-time job. We will not qualify for the tax rebate. We get to continue to work endless hours every week to support our family, while others are offered financial aid for their children and will now also receive a tax rebate. <br /><br />This came around in email today and was too perfect to not share here:<br /><br /><em>Suppose that every day, ten men go out for beer and the bill for all ten comes to $100. If they paid their bill the way we pay our taxes, it would go something like this:</em><br /><br /><em>The first four men (the poorest) would pay nothing.<br />The fifth would pay $1.<br />The sixth would pay $3.<br />The seventh would pay $7.<br />The eighth would pay $12.<br />The ninth would pay $18.<br />The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.</em><br /><br /><em>So, that's what they decided to do. The ten men drank in the bar every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement, until one day, the > owner threw them a curve. 'Since you are all such good customers, he said, 'I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily beer by $20. Drinks for the ten now cost just $80.</em><br /><br /><em>The group still wanted to pay their bill the way we pay our taxes so the first four men were unaffected. They would still drink for free. But what about the other six men - the paying customers?How could they divide the $20 windfall so that everyone would get his 'fair share?'<br /><br />They realized that $20 divided by six is $3.33. But if they subtracted that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the sixth man would each end up being paid to drink his beer. So, the bar owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same amount, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay.</em><br /><br /><em>And so:<br />The fifth man, like the first four, now paid nothing (100% savings).<br />The sixth now paid $2 instead of $3 (33%savings).<br />The seventh now pay $5 instead of $7 (28%savings).<br />The eighth now paid $9 instead of $12 (25% savings).<br />The ninth now paid $14 instead of $18 (22% savings).<br />The tenth now paid $49 instead of $59 (16% savings).</em><br /><br /><em>Each of the six was better off than before. And the first four continued to drink for free. But once outside the restaurant, the men began to compare their savings. 'I only got a dollar out of the $20,'declared the sixth man. He pointed to the tenth man,' but he got $10!' 'Yeah, that's right,' exclaimed the fifth man. 'I only saved a dollar, too. It's unfair that he got ten times more than I!' 'That's true!!' shouted the seventh man. 'Why should he get $10 back when I got only two? The wealthy get all the breaks!' 'Wait a minute,' yelled the first four men in unison. 'We didn't get anything at all. The system exploits the poor!' The nine men surrounded the tenth and beat him up.</em><br /><br /><em>The next night the tenth man didn't show up for drinks, so the nine sat down and had beers without him. But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something important. They didn't have enough money between all of them for even half of the bill! </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>And that, boys and girls, journalists and college professors, is how our tax system works. The people who pay the highest taxes get the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just may not show up anymore. In fact, they might start drinking overseas where the atmosphere is somewhat friendlier.<br /></em><br /><em>David R. Kamerschen, Ph.D.<br />Professor of Economics, University of Georgia</em><br /><br />With gas prices well over $3 per gallon and costs going up everywhere I turn, what options are left for hard-working Americans?Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-5148518533121957342008-01-11T21:01:00.000-08:002008-01-11T21:33:22.256-08:0081 days postop - the second time aroundIt's hard to believe that I'm almost 3 months postop from my ankle hardware removal on October 22nd. Nonetheless, I am happy to report that I am healing up nicely. The good news is that the persistent aching and stiffness I was having before the procedure has gotten much better. My ankle specialist warned me that I will likely suffer arthritis in the joint and may need another procedure at some point in the future to deal with that. But for now, I am enjoying the relief. My only gripe is the really ugly scars that I am left with. The scars from my initial surgery are still there, though faded some - but the second procedure added another 2, one that is thick and an angry red color about 5 inches in length. In the pictures below, taken about 10 days postop, you can see the incisions beneath the tape. The ones on the inner side are the new ones.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggUBnmVMyUK8feKXEth9bysA0f8kTkanQ37DbpVLr2H0BWxULKyNxPLSHGPA4jlSZ9gzUnK_Y4Ho81sotht3c5xNcIJ8Uvi0UZbqd6ViDYcrUnhxUJIKrimeW3c0wZEtT7ezDY/s1600-h/100_3153.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154453866100564674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggUBnmVMyUK8feKXEth9bysA0f8kTkanQ37DbpVLr2H0BWxULKyNxPLSHGPA4jlSZ9gzUnK_Y4Ho81sotht3c5xNcIJ8Uvi0UZbqd6ViDYcrUnhxUJIKrimeW3c0wZEtT7ezDY/s320/100_3153.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKvsjo1lIjda4JNvfZZhkrvbgKKe3WToBToR3l8NCjiIfys85AZPMj1_xdXfajoxA3nsBhkb2H5ebV5kZhyphenhyphenhdFYA0vJ8b6xpz4Gx5fKYVEWZXReUaBa_rzEXVrR-d1yuYSgHY0/s1600-h/100_3154.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154453870395531986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKvsjo1lIjda4JNvfZZhkrvbgKKe3WToBToR3l8NCjiIfys85AZPMj1_xdXfajoxA3nsBhkb2H5ebV5kZhyphenhyphenhdFYA0vJ8b6xpz4Gx5fKYVEWZXReUaBa_rzEXVrR-d1yuYSgHY0/s320/100_3154.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I still have some tingling along the incisions as well. Fortunately, it's the dead of winter. With any luck, these new scars will be faded before I'm tempted to wear shorts again!Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-35867042199932881452007-10-25T11:50:00.000-07:002008-01-11T21:32:20.599-08:00Definitely on the mendPostop day 3 and I'm feeling pretty good. I am able to walk in the boot relatively comfortably. It's clunky, but much less painful than 2 days ago. I'm having less aching at rest as well. I woke up this morning feeling really encouraged. I even went out to the kitchen and made myself a latte. Being upright for 15 minutes did bring on some throbbing, but it subsided once I put my foot back up. Definite improvement!<br /><br />I took a bath last night too - which was a little slice of heaven. I put a crutch across the top of the tub and rested my bum leg on that. Getting in and out of the tub was a challenge, but it was definitely worth the effort. It was so rejuvenating.<br /><br />Yesterday the hardware arrived in the mail. Someone in the surgical center was kind enough to sterilize it and seal it in an envelope for me. It's amazing to see it - it looks much smaller than what I imagined! I thought the metal plate was at least 8 to 10 inches long, but it's actually only 4 or 5 inches in length. Here's a picture!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WMeeEpD5sJ_ACBSF8gyunRNeXbztvD2BuBDXn26tZpJvrkksO2-4EiCPjwdBdxnAWe2L-RcVVU7gsbiXQV_y9kzq6towiACsnND4GJgz4fxhvid6mRck1y_SxX8Vh2mPJoXD/s1600-h/100_3160.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154457607017079522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WMeeEpD5sJ_ACBSF8gyunRNeXbztvD2BuBDXn26tZpJvrkksO2-4EiCPjwdBdxnAWe2L-RcVVU7gsbiXQV_y9kzq6towiACsnND4GJgz4fxhvid6mRck1y_SxX8Vh2mPJoXD/s320/100_3160.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I haven't had any Percocet since yesterday. I am pretty sure I'm done with that. I was hoping to make it through the day today without needing a nap, but I am starting to doubt it. I'm not going to push it - I want to heal properly and improve my chances of having a great recovery.<br /><br />So far, so good.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-30322839167022856032007-10-22T20:35:00.000-07:002007-10-25T11:49:22.876-07:00Round Two: Exactly 17 months laterToday marks exactly 17 months since the surgery for my trimalleolar fracture of the right ankle. And today I again went "under the knife" to have the hardware removed from my ankle. I woke up with my typical stiffness and was anxious to have the procedure done. I believe it all went well - I was sedated through the surgery itself. I had a hard time waking up from anesthesia, and for some reason I struggled with a bad cough and low oxygen saturation rates for the first hour or two postop. They ended up putting me back on O2 by nasal cannula while I was in the recovery ward.<br /><br />The surprising part for me was the pain. I didn't expect to be completely pain-free immediately after surgery, but I think I was surprised at just how much pain I did have. Dr. Chi told me he was going to give me an "ankle block" and that it probably wouldn't completely cover the pain - but I rated it as 7 out of 10 - with spikes into the 8 or 9 range. Two Percocets and a Vistaril helped take the edge off, but the pain has yet to completely subside. I have been taking 2 Percocets every 3 to 4 hours all day. I tried to take only 1 this last time around, and it's really as if I didn't take any at all. Lots of dull aching just lying still - with stabs of pain if I move it. And it's even worse if I have to get up and use the bathroom. Just the few minutes of being up sends the blood throbbing down into it. Ouchers.<br /><br />I also haven't been able to fully feel my toes since coming out of anesthesia. I loosened the boot some to see if that would help. At least the numbness isn't moving like it did with my original surgery. I had lost feeling all the way up to my knee cap that time.<br /><br />Bless my wonderful neighbor for fixing dinner for my family and me. That was very much appreciated. I believe hubby is staying home with me tomorrow, just to make sure I'm on the mend. I intend to spend the entire week in bed with my foot elevated - and work from my laptop. Though today I can't really focus much. The 2 Percocets at the same time leave me nodding in and out of sleep.<br /><br />I'm really hoping tomorrow is a better day!! If there are a lot of typos in this entry - blame it on the medications.<br /><br />Sweet dreams ~Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-91071964108249600242007-10-11T10:29:00.000-07:002007-10-11T10:43:49.853-07:00Relief in Sight?After months of aching and stiffness in my right ankle, I finally went back to my orthopedic surgeon. He did followup x-rays and said I had good alignment and nothing obviously troublesome showing up. We discussed the pros and cons of taking the hardware out from my trimalleolar fracture of 17 months ago. He told me there was no guarantee that removing the metal would improve my situation and that it could put me at risk for a future break. But he also admitted that he is a spine specialist. :) He referred me to an ankle specialist for a second opinion.<br /><br />I saw Dr. Chi this past Monday. He said at least three times during the review of my x-rays, "That's a bad break!" Tell me about it.<br /><br />Dr. Chi has recommended that I proceed with hardware removal, arthroscopic debridement, and posteromedial capsulotomy, and I'm scheduled for outpatient surgery on October 22nd. He told me that the likelihood of breaking it again is small - and that he feels the odds are in my favor for improvement with this procedure. He did caution me that I could have long-term arthritis issues, which is in line with what Dr. Price has previously said. <br /><br />This morning I happened to read an article about arthritis and the effects on working (<a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071011/ap_on_he_me/arthritis_workplace">http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071011/ap_on_he_me/arthritis_workplace</a>). Since I work at home, I don't foresee a problem with arthritis impacting my ability to earn a living. I do, however, already struggle with driving, exercising, and just getting around. Some days, the stiffness is so bad that I have to go down the stairs sideways. Sometimes the swelling is so severe that I can't wear certain shoes. Driving long distances in my stick-shift car can aggravate my ankle too. More often than not, I wake up stiff and hobble around for the first 30 minutes or so of the morning. An ongoing issue is the lack of strength and stability I feel in the ankle, particularly when walking on uneven surfaces. And I still have flashbacks when I walk down a sloped surface - almost like post-traumatic stress disorder. <br /><br />So I look forward to the procedure on the 22nd. Dr. Chi told me to expect heavy bleeding for the first several days. I will be on bed rest with my foot elevated during that phase - and then will be in a walking boot for 2 to 6 weeks. Unlike the original injury, I will be able to walk on it immediately. No crutches!! That's good news. Though I'm not sure I will be able to drive the stick-shift car with the boot on. :(<br /><br />Nonetheless, it's a temporary set back that I hope will result in a better situation in the long run.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-6773282967299104752007-09-04T21:42:00.000-07:002007-09-04T22:28:16.112-07:00Grandpa's Legacy of LoveEight days ago I got the call from my mom. My 85-year-old grandpa - her Daddy - had lost his nearly 3-year battle with lung and metastatic brain cancer.<br /><br />My grandfather was a generous, loving, funny, humble man. He served in WWII with the United States Army. Growing up he told his grandchildren that he was a cook, and a drill sergeant, and a sniper in the army. To this day I don't know if any or all of these are true. He WAS an amazing cook. He made liver and onions palatable. He introduced me to little silver fish called smelt and shrimp cocktail. He made the best green beens and ham hocks and red potatoes. He would also line up my brother, sister, and me and recite a military cadence that I remember to this day.<br /><br /><em>Left. Left. Left, right, left. I left my wife and my 48 kids back in the states without any hamburgers left. Left. Left, right, left.</em><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkvZXknVQxt67xZ7NDBl3RlLDzJdPQbVPhekytF6noayrw-WkBkTrgGPtIr3gOnMxV90gW99MXoD-slweycFIx8MSa12fWGjPISnAZh-5PCJwbH-OogqXgOC-mRagfndpI9yqF/s1600-h/army.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106584530592304434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkvZXknVQxt67xZ7NDBl3RlLDzJdPQbVPhekytF6noayrw-WkBkTrgGPtIr3gOnMxV90gW99MXoD-slweycFIx8MSa12fWGjPISnAZh-5PCJwbH-OogqXgOC-mRagfndpI9yqF/s320/army.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is a picture of my grandpa and some of his army buddies. Grandpa is the handsome young devil kneeling down on the far right.<br /><br /><br />Grandpa was a real joker. He would show up for Easter Sunday with a frown and proceed to explain to us in his saddest tone about how the easter bunny jumped out in front of his car and he couldn't avoid hitting him. He gave us the same story on Christmas Eve - claiming to have run over Santa and his reindeer on his way over to our house.<br /><br />These were some of the special stories that were shared by the pastor who presided over grandpa's funeral last Saturday. We had a small gathering of close family and friends at the grave site. Simple and intimate - just the way grandpa would have wanted it. When Pastor Dan related the story about the easter bunny and Santa, heads were bobbing up and down in silent agreement all around me.<br /><br />Pastor Dan said if he had to choose one word to describe my grandfather it would be love. Grandpa was definitely loved, and he knew how to love in return. Before cancer took away his stamina, he would ride his Schwinn bike around his 55-and-over trailer park, with his Scottish Terrier Duffy in a basket on the front, stopping to visit with his neighbors. Within hours of his passing, a note was posted near the mailboxes in his park and people started stopping by his house to pay their respects.<br /><br />This is what Pastor Dan referred to as <em>leaving a legacy of love</em>. His parting words for us as the funeral came to a close were a challenge of sorts. He encouraged each of us to create our own legacy - a legacy of love.<br /><br />It didn't occur to me until a few days later that I had heard a similar message the night before the funeral from the famous Motown musician, Stevie Wonder. Kirk and I had tickets to see Stevie at the Ste. Michelle Winery near our home. We bought them weeks ago. Long before we knew grandpa would be gone. At the end of the amazing 2-hour show, Stevie also chose his parting words to be about love. He is touring only 11 cities this summer - but all in honor of his mother, whom he obviously loved with every ounce of his being. He talked about her regularly throughout his show. He shared stories about his mother and how she expressed love. He shared stories about his relationship with his own children and how much he loves them. And as he prepared to leave the stage, he reminded everyone in attendance that everything is possible through love.<br /><br />Today has been a long day. The first day of school for my junior high girl, my high school girl, and one of my college boys. I made sure to give each of them some of my time today. I wanted to hear all about their first-day experiences. I wanted to start building my legacy of love.<br /><br />Grandpa, you may be gone but you will never be forgotten. I love you.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7pmI4Ko2Tb_Mi0pEaeg_2qlBIsixMqEK0pZpo61W70s1S_ytDmuWNfXvHz8grMZraU6wLCmGx9qr0WUNRhTFZmeUTAPlc41OkHJRCIRMRWTMJ1XrTPZ94R-U2zeyTURSioIO/s1600-h/closeup.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106585995176152386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7pmI4Ko2Tb_Mi0pEaeg_2qlBIsixMqEK0pZpo61W70s1S_ytDmuWNfXvHz8grMZraU6wLCmGx9qr0WUNRhTFZmeUTAPlc41OkHJRCIRMRWTMJ1XrTPZ94R-U2zeyTURSioIO/s320/closeup.jpg" border="0" /></a>Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-32185283825966248732007-08-02T22:20:00.000-07:002007-08-09T23:20:17.401-07:00FlashbacksI was in Chicago earlier this week for an educator's conference and flew back home on a United flight. United Airlines primarily flies in and out of the North Satellite at Seatac Airport. It had been a long day, and a long flight, and I was tired and ready to get home when the plane pulled up to the gate at 8 pm last night. I gathered my things and found my way off the plane, chatting with my son on the cell phone to make arrangements to be picked up. As I hung up the phone and walked toward the escalators leading to the underground train and, eventually, baggage claim, I had an odd sensation come over me. Right in front of me was gate N10. I recognized it immediately as the gate where my accident happened just 14 months earlier.<br /><br />I was literally stopped in my tracks. I have traveled dozens of times since that fateful trip last May, but I had never been this close to the scene of the accident. And, frankly, I was surprised at my own reaction all these months later. While I continue to deal with physical repercussions - the aching and stiffness in my ankle and the throbbing pain that wakes me on rainy nights - I had truly believed that the emotional trauma was over.<br /><br />I have to travel again in another 12 days. I'm grateful that I am not flying United - which means chances are pretty good that I won't be flying out of the North Satellite. I obviously need a little more time to heal.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-35386413001809105802007-07-28T23:31:00.000-07:002007-07-29T00:06:15.575-07:00Three Strikes - you're back to the drawing boardI attended the Pacific Northwest Writer's conference in Seattle this weekend. I went for my first time about 8 years ago and found the experience to be very inspirational and exhilirating. This year I decided to register primarily because my good friend Pat had entered their writing contest and was a top-ten finalist. I wanted to be there to support her at the banquet in the event that she took home the blue ribbon.<br /><br />While I have primarily been writing technical articles for work, I do continue to dabble in what I have come to refer to as "pleasure writing" from time to time. I have taken 2 writing courses in the past year, and I continue to devote some brain time to writing ideas and outlines. However, I did not go to the conference this year with a completed project in hand - and I really had no intention of meeting with agents or editors. But when my registration packet arrived with 2 appointment cards, one for an agent and one for an editor, it was hard to not take that as a "sign" and attend those appointments.<br /><br />My first appointment was with an agent. She was a very nice woman who I would have been happy to have represent me - if I had a completed project. I opted to "pitch" the idea of my transplant memoir to her. I had circulated this idea at this same conference 8 years ago - talking to 3 agents at that meeting. None were intensely interested, but one did give me a referral to a friend of hers that she thought might be. I probably should have pursued it then. This year's agent told me that the idea was not marketable as a book because it didn't have enough "mass appeal." She suggested I condense it into a magazine article and try to sell that. Perhaps it was the fact that I accidentally mentioned that I have been working on this book for nearly 10 years now that turned her off? Ugh. Strike one.<br /><br />My appointment with an editor wasn't much better. I sat at a round table with 5 other anxious authors, all taking turns pitching their story to this very nice agent who represented a publishing house in New York. It didn't seem to matter much that she was primarily looking for projects in the romance genre. We all carried on with our polished pitches as if we could somehow convince her that she couldn't leave town without our project (assuming we HAD one) in her briefcase.<br /><br />Two people before my turn, a woman pitched her idea of a memoir centered around her grandfather who was a homesteader in Oregon. The editor suggested she try to sell the project to a local - more regional - publishing house. She went on to say that memoirs only work in the mass market if they are written by someone famous. Ugh.<br /><br />When it was my turn, I launched into my pitch with a little bit of reservation based on what she had told the woman writing the homesteader memoir. Nonetheless, she heard me out and then smiled and said, "Have you seen an agent yet?" I shook my head yes. "I'll bet she told you to consider turning this into a magazine article..." WHAM. Once again, she reiterated that there is no mass market for this project. I wanted to argue - but it seemed futile at that point. Perhaps it was finally time to bury this idea. After all, I had lost my momentum somewhere around 8 years ago. Perhaps it was after that last writer's conference where the idea was met with lukewarm reception?? Strike two.<br /><br />The very next session I attended at the conference was about women as influential writers. In the course of the presentation someone asked a question about copyright laws and quoting song lyrics. The other big project I have been working on for the last 2 years is my "Everything I Ever Needed to Know I Learned from Rock Music" book. This is a project I was truly excited about. I had nearly 100 one-line song lyrics saved on my laptop (the one that broke down last summer and I haven't had time to resurrect). Come to find out that you cannot quote song lyrics without first obtaining permission from ASCAP and the publisher of the song. The speaker said one small clip of lyrics in a book she represented once cost $300 just to obtain the rights to reprint the lyrics. I have nearly 100 clips saved! Suddenly this quaint, hip project has gotten very expensive. I asked if I could create a character that often quoted song lyrics as a form of communication (an idea I had for a protagonist in a mystery novel). The speaker said that water is simply too dangerous to tread in and quoting lyrics should be avoided if at all possible. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Strike three...you're...broken?<br /><br />For a moment I felt completely defeated and hopeless. I had put a tremendous amount of time into the transplant book - even though it wasn't anywhere near complete. And I was so excited and fond of the song lyric book. It was like falling in love with a puppy and then being told I can't take it home. I was ready to throw in the towel and admit defeat. I even said to Pat, in a temporary moment of extreme self-pity, "Maybe this is a sign that I'm not meant to be a writer?"<br /><br />Fortunately, I came to my senses. I have decided that while I didn't leave this years' conference feeling exhilirated and inspired - I did leave feeling more focused and deliberate about my work. So what if I don't have a primary project needling at my brain at the moment - at least I know where NOT to put my energy. That has to count for something.<br /><br />Oh - and Pat didn't take home a blue ribbon. For now, she has to be happy with being a top-ten finalist in a contest that netted nearly 1000 applicants across 12 categories. In my opinion, that's pretty damned impressive. At least she had a completed project!Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-1175609997932932732007-04-03T07:09:00.000-07:002007-04-03T07:19:57.943-07:00The Early Bird Catches the...OUCH!I've been wide awake since about 5:30 am. This is unusual for me. It's not that I am well rested either. My eyes feel like they are lined with sand. But I flipped and flopped for about 45 minutes, and then finally got up to face the day. I figured I might actually get something done while the house is still quiet.<br /><br />I did toy with the idea of going to the gym - but once I got out of bed and realized how stiff my ankle is today, I changed my mind. It's been nearly 11 months since the accident and I'm still hobbling. It's very frustrating.<br /><br />I am fed up with my weight. I may have only gained 5 pounds over the last 11 months, but I really can't afford to gain much more. I am trying to be more active - but it seems to come at a cost. For example, I'll take a walk - a nice, steady pace. And then pay the price with a swollen, aching ankle for 2 days.<br /><br />Last night the girls wanted to go swimming at the YMCA. I figured it would be a gentle form of exercise that would be good for my ankle - so I strapped on my suit (more like squeezed into it!) and off we went. It felt great to get in the water. I have to say, it's the one place where I don't feel fat! I swam laps - gentle, slow, easy laps. I also sat in the hot tub for a while. Very nice. I came home feeling really good. I slept solid (until 5:30 am!). I felt hopeful that I had finally found a form of exercise that might work. Until I got out of bed...<br /><br />Maybe it's just sore because I haven't been swimming in a while. Maybe it's just sore because I need to stretch it more. Maybe it's just sore because I'm still healing.<br /><br />Or maybe this is the way it will be for the rest of my life. What a depressing thought.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-1167894133354352842007-01-03T22:30:00.000-08:002007-01-03T23:07:57.283-08:00Waiting for the Swarming LocustsIt has been an insane few weeks for anyone living in Western Washington! Surely there are believers out there who are convinced that the Armageddon is upon us. In early November we were treated to record flooding. Only weeks later, a snow storm hit - followed closely by a deep freeze that blanketed the region in black ice. Then a major wind storm knocked out power to over 1 million homes - leaving some people without power for over a week. Yesterday we broke a temperature record (56 degrees) as well as record rainfall.<br /><br />If the weather wasn't bad enough, we have had a host of home improvement problems crop up. Two weeks before the wind storm we discovered a leak from the water line going into our new refrigerator. Our son woke us up at 1 am to let us know there was water dripping from the ceiling in the downstairs family room. Hubby ripped out a large portion of the ceiling to diagnose the problem - and a plumber came out and replaced the cracked tubing running through the attic with copper pipe in the floor between the 2 stories of the house. That was an $800 repair job, not including the repair to the ceiling (which still needs to be fixed). We also noticed that the Pergo flooring in the dining room suffered some buckling from the leak.<br /><br />The night of the wind storm, we discovered a leak in the roof when water was dripping from the dining room light fixture. Hubby was busy dismantling the light fixture when the same water savvy son came up to tell him that the laundry room and bathroom downstairs were flooded. Thinking it was a water pipe that may have broken during the deep freeze, hubby turned off the water main. But the water kept coming. On our way out the sliding glass door downstairs, we discovered that the carpet in the family room was completely saturated. We were in the midst of torrential rain fall at a rate of nearly 2 inches every hour - and it turns out that the rain water was pouring in from beneath the sliding glass door and then seeping down the edge of the house into the bathroom and laundry room. We dug a "moat" around our concrete patio out back to help pull the water away from the house and were in the process of sucking up the water out of the carpet with a wet vac when we lost power. We had used up all of our dry towels on the laundry room floor so I pulled out some flannel sheets and tried to mop up as much of the water as I could. Then the carpet sat wet for the 4+ days that we were without power. The first chance we got, we rented a commerical carpet blower and dried it out - but a moldy smell lingered.<br /><br />We had a friend come over and help us seal off the gap below the sliding glass door. We also called Empire Today (you know the tune - <em>800-588-2300 Empire - TODAY</em>!) and ordered new carpet for the family room. While we were at it, we decided to have the Pergo upstairs pulled up and replaced with hardwoods - along with the kitchen and stairs. The carpet installers arrived a few days later and began pulling up the old carpet. We then discovered that the leak from the night of the wind storm was not fixed. The floor was saturated again. ARGH! We had to send the carpet installers away while we diagnosed and repaired the leak. We're pretty sure the damage was coming from a faulty downspout that was literally pouring rain water directly onto the edge of the foundation. We extended the downspouts, put in some drains, and were satisfied enough with the repair job to have the carpet installers back out the next day to finish the job. (The carpet looks awesome, by the way!)<br /><br />The next day the hardwood installers showed up and pulled up all of the Pergo, kitchen linoleum, and carpet off the stairs. Surprise, surprise. The leak from the refrigerator left a huge patch of damp plywood floor beneath the Pergo and linoleum. The hardwood guys couldn't finish the job until that dried out - so out came the fans. In the meantime, the entire contents of our dining room and kitchen were stacked in the living room, and there were boxes upon boxes of hardwood stacked in our narrow hallway leading to the bedrooms. We could barely move around on the top floor of the house. It took 2 days to get the wood dried out and get Empire to send out another crew to finish the job. (Thank you, Moses, for a job well done!)<br /><br />Everything is done now and it all looks great. It started raining again yesterday. I have been running downstairs every few hours to check the downspout and make sure the new carpet is safe. So far, so good.<br /><br />In a way, it seemed like a fitting way to end an otherwise horrific year. In 2006, I was in a car accident that left my BMW a total loss; I suffered a trimalleolar fracture of my right ankle and spent all summer in a cast and/or walking boot; my grandfather's lung cancer has moved from his left lung to his brain to his right lung and now back to his brain; my sister has completely self-destructed - starting with a DUI accident, then jail time, losing her job, a felony charge, more jail time, and now a problem with meth.<br /><br />I'm ready for a new year - new beginnings. Either that, or the swarm of locusts that will signal the end of it all.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-1163999372229150592006-11-19T21:03:00.000-08:002006-11-19T21:09:32.243-08:00Day 19 and All is QuietThe end of day 19 for Nanowrimo is rapidly approaching. I have written a pathetic 2788 words. My 11-year-old daughter is on page 28 of her story - I'm up to page 9. She's kicking my butt. But I'm not discouraged. I have always done my best work under pressure. The problem seems to be my inner critic. I realize that the goal of this project is to JUST WRITE, but I can't seem to stop reading and re-reading and editing every single word. I inherently know that this is absolutely contradictory to the plan. And yet...<br /><br />So, with 11 days and 3 hours left, I am going to dive in for the next hour or two and see if I can actually get some words cranked out. I am using this blog as a pep talk to myself and my inner critic. Tonight's goal is word count. It's all about quantity and not necessarily about quality.<br /><br />So cover me, I'm going in.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-1162424787894808172006-11-01T15:41:00.000-08:002006-11-01T15:46:27.906-08:00I Must Be NUTSHalloween always marks the beginning of what I call "The Season of Eating." First there is all of that candy. Then just a few short weeks away we celebrate Thanksgiving with turkey and gravy and all of the fixings. Then comes the Christmas delights - plates of homemade cookies and candy from friends and relatives, followed by a big meal (usually prime rib) on Christmas Day. You would think that is the end - but then we have New Year's Eve with the drinking and snacking. I really don't consider the season over until after SuperBowl - another day of fabulous feasting.<br /><br />During this very busy time of eating, I have decided to take the leap and finally try to write a book. I found out about something called NanoWrimo through a fiction writing class I just finished. The challenge is to write 50,000 words between Nov. 1st and Nov. 30th. To stay on track, you need to pen approximately 2,000 words per day. It's 3:40 pm and I haven't written a single word yet. Oy. Not starting out very well. But I'm not giving up! I have an outline, I have a plot and subplot, and I have a few characters sketched out. Now all I have to do is put pen to paper (or fingers to keys) and JUST DO IT.Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29504828.post-1162003656740866192006-10-27T19:39:00.000-07:002006-10-27T19:47:49.373-07:005-1/2 Months and LimpingI can't believe how the time has been flying by since I was given the approval to drive and walk without my boot. I made a successful business trip to Denver earlier this month without incident. My ankle still swells up if I spend too much time on it. It still aches first thing in the morning and is stiff. But I am not nearly as handicapped as I was just 2 short months ago. That's progress.<br /><br />I'm dealing with the physical reminders of the accident, but what really surprises me are the emotional issues I still have. When I went to board the plane out of Seattle to Denver this month, I was almost afraid to walk down the jetway. I walked very gingerly, holding onto the hand rail and taking small baby steps the entire length of the walkway. I'm sure the people behind me were annoyed - but I didn't care. Once while I was at my conference in Denver, I was carrying 2 cups of coffee, one in each hand, and walking down a carpeted hallway that had a slight decline to it. I had this terrible image of my ankle giving out and had to stop to calm myself down before continuing down the hallway. Any time that I walk down a ramp of any kind I feel like I'm back in the moment of the accident in May. I can picture my heel sliding forward and my ankle rolling. I relive it over and over again. I wonder how long I will continue to have these flashbacks? I wonder if other people who have had similar experiences also have flashbacks. Is this post traumatic stress disorder??Kim Buchananhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00331158647939004301noreply@blogger.com0