Hello again!  How have you been?  It’s been over a year.  My last post was in October of 2016. Since then, a lot has happened.  My beloved cat, Oscar, whose picture is on this website, died at age 13.  I have since adopted a new cat, Zeke, whom I love just as much.  Our beautiful dog, Buffy, died, too, of lymphoma.  We now have a new puppy, Tawny.  I got braces.  I’ve been to Charleston, San Antonio, Vermont, and Newport, Rhode Island.  We have a new president… Well, that’s where it ended, because I lost a lot of faith in humanity and lost my desire for unity. I also lost my desire to connect and to write.

Now, I have decided to come back and write again. I’m not sure what my focus will be, entirely, but I do know that I must write.  Warning:  It might get political.

“She let herself go.” She’s really aged.” “She got ugly.”  I hate these expressions which are most often associated with women getting older. After all, I’ve never heard, “He’s really let himself go,” or “He got ugly,” regarding an aging man. It is a hurtful judgement of women based upon appearance.

With few exceptions, most women struggle with acceptance of their appearance from puberty, if not earlier.  When I was a teenager, I thought I was ugly.  This was mainly because I compared myself to Farrah Fawcett, Playboy bunnies, and Barbie Dolls. Not to mention the fact that my neighbor across the street looked like a super model, and my same-aged cousin was tall and blonde with big boobs.  When I was with either of them, I faded into the background. Now, looking back, I see that I was quite cute, but certainly didn’t realize it at the time.

When I went to college, I remember in the dining hall, fraternity brothers would rate girls from 1 to 10 when they walked by.  I never bothered to listen to how I rate.  My boyfriend at the time told me, however, that I was probably about a seven. I wised up and dumped him.  I had this big fear growing up that if I got married, my husband would leave me for a younger woman when I reached menopause.  Maybe I watched too much Phil Donahue, but then again, look at our presidential candidate, Donald Trump.  It happens a lot.

One of the smartest decisions I’ve ever met was marrying my husband.  Our relationship is much deeper than looks, but he always lets me know how attracted he is to me. We plan to grow old together, God willing. He thinks of women in terms of their abilities and how they treat people, and his validation will, hopefully, prevent my daughters from carrying the same baggage I have.  But I consider him to be the exception to the rule.

Weight and appearance have always been a battle for me.  I had to diet and exercise in my teens unlike my gorgeous neighbor and cousin.  During my three pregnancies, I had to watch my weight and continued to exercise.  Breastfeeding kept weight on for a while, but it was eventually lost when my babies were weaned. It was not without great effort, though.

Now, the biggest challenge I have ever had regarding appearance is menopause.  I know that I am blessed to have lived this long in good health.  The challenge for me is to love myself as I grow wrinkles, graying hair, and a bigger belly.  Menopausal hormones (or lack of them) is no joke.  You can fight them as easily as you can fight the hormones of puberty.  Many women experience unjustified weight gain in the middle–hence the term “muffin top.”  It doesn’t help when people judge and dismiss you because you are old. In society’s eyes, I am depreciating in value.  Youth and good looks are what’s important.

What helps me the most is my faith.  I have heard it said that, “As our bodies get older, our spirits should become more beautiful.”  We should continue to grow as people and help others.  What our bodies look like when we die won’t matter.  What matters is what we have done with our life, and if we have loved each other. In heaven, everyone will be beautiful.  So, maybe instead of saying, “She let herself go,” it would be better to say, “She finally let go.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

My heart aches for the victims of another senseless mass shooting.  Each new shooting generates its own unique horror and reveals another facet of hatred. I can only try to imagine the pain and anguish experienced by the surviving victims and their families. What makes this one different is that the gun man’s target was the gay community.  This fact doesn’t make it more horrible or less horrible, just different.  When it comes to homosexuality, I agree with the statement by Pope Francis who said, “Who am I to judge?”

Gay people must have to contend with rejection a lot.  If they “come out of the closet,” they face the prospect of being rejected by their parents, their family, their friends, their church, and some would even try to convince them, their God. If they choose not to come-out, they still have to silently listen to hateful statements made by others.  While many people struggle with feelings of depression, of being unlovable, and of low self-worth, it is easy to see how these feelings might be magnified in a sensitive gay person.  It is not surprising to me that an estimated 30% of gay youth attempt or successfully commit suicide.  To a vulnerable, young gay person, the message of hatred the shooter sent only reinforces the negative feelings with which they already struggle. How evil it is to murder someone just because of they way they were born.  It breaks my heart. God loves each and every one of His creations!

Christians are called to love everyone. If a person loves someone of the opposite sex or of the same sex, it shouldn’t matter, as long as what they share is a self-giving love.

 

 

Since I didn’t grow up Catholic, I never learned how to pray The Rosary. When I was asked to become a fourth grade catechist, I thought it might be a good idea to tackle this great prayer. After all, I couldn’t have the students out-praying me. I’ve never been a fan of repetitive prayer, but I forced myself to memorize the whole dang thing using a print-out from this link:

http://www.newadvent.org/images/rosary.pdf.

Now, it is still something of a chore for me to pray this prayer, but I still do for a number of reasons.

1. Because it is a chore, I can “offer it up” for the suffering of others or myself.
2. Being a meditative prayer, it is good way to clear my thoughts and focus, instead, on the life of Christ.
3. After reading the book, “Nine Minutes and Twenty Seconds,” a true story about a plane crash in which half the people die, I was impressed with how a woman was able to comfort a dying man by praying The Rosary out loud next to him.  While I hope I am never in that situation, I like knowing that I could do the same for someone who needs comforting words.
4. A friend of mine, who is a religious sister, taught me that it is a good prayer for those times when you are in so much pain or experiencing so much turmoil that you can’t even think.  Again, I hope I don’t need it that way, but I am prepared if I do.
5. It can be used to pass the time when I take long walks or jog. Praying it keeps me alert during my long commute to work.  I rarely ever use the beads, I just use my ten fingers.  Also, if heaven forbid, I get into an accident, the fact that I had just been praying The Rosary can’t be a bad thing.
6. There are supposedly a whole slew of benefits that you can reap by praying The Rosary.  I don’t really count on them being true and therefore, don’t know what they are.
7. One of the best reasons I pray it, is to unite my puny sufferings with those of Jesus.  The Sorrowful Mysteries are my favorite for this reason.
8. Meditating on the mysteries makes you intimately familiar with the path of Christ.  I like having Him not far from my mind.

What bothers me the most about the rosary, is the superstition around it.  I have been around grown women who beat themselves up because they “forgot to pray the rosary that day.”  To me, this is sad.  I don’t pray it every day.  I go through periods when I pray it a lot.  Other times, I pray different prayers.  Just “talking to God” is my favorite way to pray. In addition to that, some of the “prescribed” Mysteries of The Rosary aren’t my favorites.  Therefore, I have decided to come up with my own mysteries.

Here are my “Hopeful Mysteries”:

1. Jesus Gives us Rest: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” Matthew 11:28-30

2. Jesus Will Never Reject Us: “Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and I will not reject anyone who comes to me.” John 6:11

3. The Comfort of Heaven: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father’s house there are many mansions. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?” John 14:1-2

4. The Promise of Eternity: “…I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even though he dies, will live: and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die…” John 11:25-26
   

5. You Are Never Alone: “…And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20

Coming soon: “Prayerful Mysteries,” and “Evangelical Mysteries”…

 

 

 

(A Rigorous Course of Study)

Did you ever wonder what happens to your blood after it is drawn for testing?  Do those lab results, somehow, just miraculously appear?  Well, to do my part for “Medical Laboratory Professionals Week,” I am going to write about some of the more interesting (hopefully) aspects of my job.

Before I go into my school experience, let me list a few things about the field that people may not know.

1. New graduates in this field are no longer called “medical technologists.”  The name has been changed to “medical laboratory scientists.”
2. To become a medical laboratory scientist, it requires four years of study to obtain the bachelor of science degree.  Many people lump all laboratory professionals together.  Nothing against those people in laboratory fields that require only two years of study, but those extra two years add more knowledge and more student loan debt.
3. 70-80% of all doctor’s decisions are based upon laboratory test results.
4. Medical laboratory scientists are essential personnel in hospitals and have to work evenings, nights, weekends, snow days, and holidays, just like doctors and nurses.
5. One professor described the course of study as the “second hardest major outside of engineering.”
6. In this field, you have to memorize a lot.
7. You have to do math and understand statistics.
8. You have to understand quality control.
9. You have to know how to work with hazardous materials and infectious agents.
10. You have to get used to being tested for competency, over and over.
11. You will not have much patient contact unless you are required to do phlebotomy or assist with bone marrows.
12. The job is not boring.  In my position, I rotate to about 10 different benches.  Therefore, I am not doing the same thing every day.
13. The field is in demand.  There is a shortage of medical laboratory scientists in many areas of the country, especially in areas where there isn’t a college program nearby.
14. If you like being the center of attention, this field is not for you.
15. Since the classes are small, you really get to know your professors and they know you. This is especially helpful when you need a reference.
16. It is a criterion-based major.  This means that no exam is ever curved.  You either learn the material needed to pass the certification exam or you don’t.
17. There is a board certification exam given by the American Society of Clinical Pathology that you must pass in order to become a certified medical laboratory scientist.

In 2009, I got laid off from my job of 21 years as information chemist.  Long story short, I made the quick decision to enter the field of medical technology.  I was attracted to it because I always loved medical science, and I liked the fact that you could get a job practically anywhere in the country.  My first bachelor’s degree was in biology, and I didn’t like having to be so creative in getting a job. Because I already had a bachelor’s degree and was an alumni of the college, it only took me two years (as opposed to four) to get my second bachelor’s degree.

I got off to a rocky start in this field.  When I went back to school in my forties, I knew it would be difficult and that things might have changed.  Well, let me tell you about my first day.  I walked into my immunology laboratory (yes, we had a lab on the first day of school), and was not prepared.  I didn’t know that there was a quiz scheduled and that I was supposed to watch a pod cast about what we would be doing.  The laboratory assistant wasn’t very sympathetic, at first, but when she realized how lost I really was, she helped me out.  There was a whole computer set-up of assignments that I didn’t know about that were supposed to have been already completed.  I got through that lab, but went home to my husband, Shawn, and told him I made a mistake in going back to school.  He said it was too soon  to know that, so I listened and continued.

Later in the week, my class of about 30 students, was supposed to attend a mandatory lecture at McDowell Hall.  Well, twenty years ago, the medical technology department was in McKinley Hall, so I mixed them up and went to McKinley Hall by mistake.  By the time I figured out what I had done wrong and found the right place, I ended up late for the lecture.  When I reached the class room, the professor chewed me out and said, “Well, there’s no sense in joining us, now,” and wouldn’t let me enter the  class room.  Instead, I had to attend a private meeting with her and three other “irresponsible” students the next day.  I went home and cried.  I told Shawn that I wanted to quit, but he reminded me, “If you quit, they probably won’t let you back in again. You better be sure.” At that point, I didn’t care.

The next day, the same professor, the chair of the department, met with and chastised the four of us who missed the meeting.  When I told her that I mixed up the name of the building, she told me I had committed an error of “inaccuracy.”  I would later learn that “accuracy” and “precision” were big to-do’s in this field.  I informed her that I needed to speak to her in private.  We met, and I told her that I thought I made a mistake by entering this field.  She calmed me down and apologized.  She said that she hated disciplining me in front of the other students, but she was trying to make a point to them.  She couldn’t just let me slide.  As a mother, I understood.  She had to “follow-through.” She persuaded me to stay, and I did.

Compared to my experience as a biology major in the 1980s, this course of study was much more rigorous. At one point, one of the professors said, “You all do realize that you are taking 9 science courses?”  Because we received separate grades for each lecture and lab, it was true, and each semester averaged about 17 credits.  Most days, we were in lecture/lab practically all day, and then we had exams or quizzes the next day.  We had to make a decision whether to get much needed sleep or stay up and study for the next day’s tests,  because there is not a lot of study time when you are in class all day.  Contrast this to when I was a biology major and had only a few classes and labs and a lot of free time.

Eventually, I adjusted. Shawn was super supportive.  Many nights, I would tell him that when I got home, I was just going to grab a bite to eat and go downstairs to study.  No more long family dinners.  But, once I found my groove, I started doing well.  All my hard work began to pay off. I received many scholarships, and I ended up graduating the program with a 3.9 average in my medical technology classes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jesus Christ has risen today!  Alleluia!

Wishing everyone a joy-filled Easter Season!  Remember the Good News–because of what Jesus did, we can live FOREVER with God! Alleluia!

Because I wasn’t baptized until I was twenty-five, I didn’t have much experience going to church.  It took me a long time to become comfortable with the rituals of the Catholic Mass. Today, I love the Mass.  I tend to prefer Ordinary Time over the crowded Christmas and Easter Masses (I know, that’s not very Christian).  I think the Chrism Mass is my favorite, a joyful Mass when all the priests in the diocese renew their vows.  But the most moving Mass I have ever experienced is the Solemnity of Good Friday.

Technically, the Good Friday service is not an actual Mass.  The hosts are consecrated the night before during Holy Thursday.

I will never forget my first Good Friday experience.  I walked into the church expecting it to be like any other Mass.  But when I arrived, the people were already kneeling and silent. When I looked up into the sanctuary, my heart skipped a beat. The hanging crucifix had been covered. I saw the priest and deacon laying prostrate under it.  The tabernacle was empty, doors opened. After a reading of the entire passion, everyone was invited to venerate the cross.  Each person took a turn to kiss, kneel before, or somehow give honor to the heavy wood of the cross, which was held up by the priest and deacon. In the background, the most beautiful, haunting music was being sung.

Poignantly aware of how Jesus suffered and died for us, I am grateful.  The darkness and bleakness of  a world without Jesus makes me gasp for air.

 

 

Before I became a Christian, I had heard of the Ten Commandments.  When I became a Christian, I learned about the Eight Beatitudes.  But it wasn’t until I read Matthew’s Gospel straight through for the first time that I learned of the “Seven Woes.”

I have never heard  the “Seven Woes” of Jesus ever discussed in church. Why are they so important?  Because in them, Jesus confronts the scribes and Pharisees, the religious leaders of his time.  His outrage towards them is chilling, and he doesn’t mince words. After enduring Jesus’ biting attack, it is no mystery why  the religious leaders wanted Jesus dead. He was a fantastic threat, to say the least, and that is why he was crucified.

The “Seven Woes” are found in Chapter 23 of Matthew, but I highly recommend reading the entire chapter.  It only takes a few minutes.  Here is an abbreviated version of them

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites.  You lock the kingdom of heaven before human beings.  You do not enter yourselves, nor do you allow entrance to those trying to enter.”

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites.  You traverse sea and land to make one convert, and when that happens you make him a child of Gehenna twice as much as yourselves.”

“Woe to you, blind guides, who say, ‘If one swears by the temple, it means nothing, but if one swears by the gold of the temple, one is obligated.’ Blind fools, which is greater, the gold, or the temple that made the gold sacred?” 

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites.   You pay tithes of mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier things of the law: judgment and mercy and fidelity. [But] these you should have done, without neglecting the others. Blind guides, who strain out the gnat and swallow the camel!”

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites. You cleanse the outside of cup and dish, but inside they are full of plunder and self-indulgence.  Blind Pharisee, cleanse first the inside of the cup, so that the outside also may be clean.”

“Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites. You are like whitewashed tombs, which appear beautiful on the outside, but inside are full of dead men’s bones and every kind of filth.  Even so, on the outside you appear righteous, but inside you are filled with hypocrisy and evil.”

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites. You build the tombs of the prophets and adorn the memorials of the righteous, and you say, ‘If we had lived in the days of our ancestors, we would not have joined them in shedding the prophets’ blood’  Thus you bear witness against yourselves that you are the children of those who murdered the prophets; now fill up what your ancestors measured out!  You serpents, you brood of vipers, how can you flee from the judgement of Gehenna?…”  Matthew 23:13-36

I grew up with no religion and, thus, had this image of Jesus as being weak because all he seemed to preach about was love, giving, and forgiving.  While all of this was true, it was important  for me to find out that he also experienced frustration  and outrage, as he demonstrates here.  I found this passage at a time when I was also disturbed by the behavior of the religious leaders of my faith.  How does Jesus react? He doesn’t complain, sulk, or gossip.  Rather, he confronts the leaders directly, a courageous thing to do. He takes action and gets himself tortured and murdered. I am in love with him again.

 

“He had an infectious laugh.”  “Her smile lit up the room.” “He was always thinking of others.” “She would do anything for you.” “He was the life of the party with his great sense of humor.” These are sentiments we’ve all heard at a funeral or read in an obituary. Sincere tributes to the person who passed away.  But I’ve often wondered…what about me?  What will people say about me when I’m gone?

Being a true introvert, I am far from the life of the party.  Rather, I am more likely to seek out the corner of the room and have a one-on-one conversation with someone else who is uncomfortable.  Better yet, if there is a dog or cat present, it becomes my buddy for the night.

While I have a sense of humor, it is not always appropriate or appreciated, and I’m not good at telling jokes. My smile does not light up the room.  I know this because, much to my annoyance, I have been told to “smile” more times than I can count.  Often, I must appear more upset than I actually am due to the amount of times people ask me, “What’s wrong?” or tell me to, “Cheer up!”   Excuse me,  I am just fine. I am simply pondering the mysteries of the universe, and it is none of your business, anyway.  Besides, this idea that women have to smile all the time is so sexist.  I mean, how many times have I seen a man with a scowl or serious expression on his face?  No one demands him to smile.

“She would do anything for you” is also not an apt description of me.  While I do try to be kind and merciful and generous, it doesn’t come naturally. I’m afraid I must admit that I am sometimes self-absorbed, and I’ve been known to complain if someone messes with my routine.  Ultimately, I usually do the right thing, but it doesn’t come easily.  I envy and am in awe of people who are so naturally kind, generous, and loving.

A quote from C.S. Lewis in “Mere Christianity” gives me comfort:

“…But if you are a poor creature…nagged day in and day out by an inferiority complex that makes you snap at your best friends–do not despair. He knows all about it. You are one of the poor whom He blessed. He knows what a wretched machine you are trying to drive…”

I see my temperament as one of those “wretched machines.” I am not by nature a joyful Christian.  Trying to be Christ-like, for me, requires effort.  I know people who are by nature more loving  and Christ-like than me who have  not professed a relationship with God. Lewis explains this by going on further to say that having a “nice” temperament  is God’s gift to us, not our gift to God. In other words, friendly, charming people are sometimes just born that way, it is not through any great effort of their own. Regardless, we are all expected to use and grow our God-given gifts wisely no matter what temperament we have been given.

Finally, I am reminded of a quote that I heard from a priest on  retreat.  He said,

“Every prophet is a pain in the a**, but not every pain in the a** is a prophet.”

We all know some of those non-prophet types.

But as I’ve grown older, I hesitate to speak my mind less and less–especially in church related matters.  While I choose to practice my faith in the Catholic Church, I am not what you would describe as a good, obedient Catholic.  I have even confronted priests at times when I thought their behavior was not fitting of their position. My spiritual directors have all, for the most part, encouraged me.  One of them warned me that if I ticked off a certain priest, he could remove me from my ministries. It was a risk that I was willing to take. (He didn’t by the way).

And remember John the Baptist? Do you think he had a smile that lit up the room?  Does he strike you as someone who would do anything for anyone?  I can’t imagine him with an “infectious laugh.”  Since he was beheaded by King Herod, we know that not everyone liked him.  He was concerned for others, I’ll give him that…baptizing everyone, including Jesus, in the Jordan River…and Jesus loved him!

My point is this, you don’t have to be liked by everyone.  You just need to do God’s will for your life with the machine He has given you.  I don’t want to take away from all the lovely, kind, smiling, and generous people who have left this world empty and mourning their loss.  I just want to suggest that it might not be such a bad thing to be remembered as a “pain in the a**.”

 

Lewis, C. S. (1952). Mere Christianity. New York: MacMillan Pub.

For Valentines Day, I would like to share a little bit about when I met my husband, Shawn.

Newly graduated from college, I took a contract job at a local chemical company picking seeds out of apples for research. Strange job, you may say, but it was the only job available for someone with a biology degree and no experience.  It was there that I met Shawn, one of the biologists. When I first saw him, I thought he was extremely good-looking, so I stereotyped him immediately.  I figured he probably had a blond girlfriend with big boobs, belonged in a fraternity, and had a list of the women he’s slept with.  He later told me that he stereotyped me, too.

When we finally started talking to each other, I was amazed at the man I discovered him to be.  So much so, that at first, I thought he was being really smooth, telling me all the right things that a girl wants to hear.  He was too good to be true!  For example, one day in the break room, I asked him who he found to be attractive on TV.  Now, this was back in the “80s”, so I expected him to say Barbi Benton, Farrah Fawcett, Lonni Anderson, Heather Locklear, or some other buxom beauty.  Instead, he paused and thought about it for awhile.  He said he didn’t really watch that much TV, but the other night he did watch “Yentl” on PBS and thought Barbara Streisand did a really good job!  I thought, ‘Is he for real?’  Not only did he NOT pick a popular sex symbol, he actually was considering what she had accomplished.  Wow, I might be onto a gem, here.

Before Shawn and I met, I was pursued by an engineering major on campus.  One day, this young man and I were browsing in a news stand, and he picked up the “Sports Illustrated” swim suit issue.  The truth was, I wasn’t really interested in this young man and tried to dissuade him from his pursuit. I said to him something like, “I could never be with someone who is into Playboy and other forms of pornography.” He put down the magazine, immediately.  Later, he said to me, “I’ll have you know that I gave away all of my Playboy magazines!”  I said, “Great.” A few weeks later, when I finally gave in and started dating him, I found a stack of Playboys in his closet.  When confronted, he said he had given them to his roommate.  Why lie?

Okay, people might think that I am a prude and maybe I am. But, actually, I find it really tiring when, as a woman, you are always judged by your appearance.  I mean, if a woman discovers the cure for cancer, there will still be people noticing if she is fat or looking old.  If someone wants to “look at” Playboy magazines, I don’t care.  To each his own.  But I didn’t want to live in that world.  Honestly, I would rather live my life alone devoted to a career than live in that world. I worried about getting married and having my husband dumping me for someone younger at 40 or after menopause.  In that world, you see it all the time.  Those magazines (along with TV media) make me feel bad about how I look and like a failure for growing old.

So, once I determined that Shawn was the gem that I thought he was, we got engaged pretty quickly.   As our relationship progressed, Shawn took me home to meet his parents.  While there, he showed me his old bedroom and pulled out boxes of magazines that were under his bed.  When I looked at them, I laughed with glee.  The boxes were full of “Fruit Grower”, “Vegetable Grower”, and “Dirt Bike Rider” magazines.  I smiled and thought to myself, ‘This, I can definitely live with.’

Today, when I am dismayed at the signs of age that my body shows, Shawn still tells me how attractive I am to him.  When I warn him that I am going to start looking worse, he says, “When I got married, I expected to grow old with my wife.”  He truly is a gem, and I’ve been blessed to be with him for over 27 years, now.  We have created our own little world.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Shawn, my love and best friend!!