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What We Can Learn From The Dying

May 23, 2013 By 1 Comment

What We Can Learn From the Dying

We live in a world with bucket lists and books like “1000 Things You Positively Have to Do Before You Die”, vision boards and life coaches. We look longingly at those with lives we wish we had and often ignore our own lives in the process. We strive for experiences that in the end do not offer fulfillment. Despite our constant attempt to fill the hours, our buckets remain empty. We spend countless hours on the internet or watching TV, relishing what someone else is doing and ignoring the tug of our children to spend time with them. We lament ad nauseum about how busy, busy, busy we are. We are consumed by the notion that something better is waiting around the corner. We are so consumed with tomorrow, we forget to live today.

And there is something around the corner. It’s either something better, something worse or death. As morose as that sounds it’s true and if you knew what waited around the corner for you was your own demise, would you be happy with what you had right now?

Would you have regrets? Would any of them match up with the the top five regrets of the dying?

  1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
  2. I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.
  3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
  4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
  5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

Hmmm, not one single mention of a tangible item. No regrets that they didn’t have a bigger house. A faster car. Better clothes. No regrets that they didn’t travel more. There is also no socioeconomic divider here. These regrets are applicable to rich, poor, and everyone in between. They are universal and as such we can all learn from the dying.

It’s hard though isn’t it? It’s hard to remain vigilant about what’s important when there are so many distractions in life. What sucks you away from what’s important? For me it’s technology. It means that I now shut down my computer when my girls get home from school and often wait until they’re in bed before I jump back on. It means that I often walk away from technology on the weekends so that I can give my family my full attention. Technology, since it is primarily where I make a living, is my biggest distraction, but not my only one. I also have to make sure that I don’t get so consumed with having a clean house that I forget to live in it. Also not said on a deathbed, “I wish I’d kept my house cleaner.”

I am working hard on becoming an expert filterer and a master of focus. I fail a lot. This is when I brush myself off and start over again because as the saying goes, if you woke up breathing you have another chance.

Last night I watched this incredible video about a young man, Zach Sobiech, who passed away on May 19. It left me breathless. Faced with his mortality, he didn’t curl up into a ball and get bitter. He embraced life and weeded out the distractions. He focused entirely on being with those he loved. I was inspired, as I often am with things like this, and made little promises in my head about living my life more mindfully.

Then I remembered another video I watched a few years ago from Randy Pausch. I made little promises then as well, which I promptly forgot.

So, what are we to learn from the dying? I don’t think we can understand our own immortality until we face it. That lesson must be taught first hand. Next, people who are dying are living with a heightened sense of appreciation for the everyday. So again, I don’t think we can glean that lesson until it’s time.

The questions then becomes how do you live like you’re dying when you’re not? I think we can walk away with these lessons.

 

  1. Ensure the people you love will never doubt you loved them. This doesn’t necessarily mean shouting out I love you every time they walk out the door or never arguing with them. It’s a bigger picture of how you treat them while you’re here with them.
  2. Keep friends close.
  3. Work is important, but not more than living. Be mindful of not confusing the two.
  4. Get rid of clutter. This can be physical clutter and emotional clutter. Focus in on your core priorities in life then pay no attention to the stuff that gets in the way.
  5. Live life joyfully. I have watched many loved ones get sick from stress lately. How we react to life’s hurdles is a choice for the most part. Don’t sweat the small stuff at they say.
  6. Don’t leave things unsaid.
  7. If there is something you want in life, don’t let fear hold you back.
  8. Don’t try to learn too many lessons at once. I add this in because while I truly believe you can never learn enough in life, you can try to apply too much in life. KISS is still the best method here. Keep your priorities straight and the rest will fall into place.

What would you add to this list?

 

The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time. ~Mark Twain

 

 

 

 

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The Thing About Mommy Blogger Conferences

April 30, 2013 By 10 Comments

I might be the only one not offended by the Wall Street Journal’s recent article on mommy blogger conferences.  I missed the initial brouhaha on social media when the story cracked. After reading an angry tweet, I searched for the article and had my pitch fork at the ready. I mean, if my fellow bloggers were this upset, obviously the Wall Street Journal had really insulted us. Instead, I had to put my pitchfork down to scratch my head. Huh? What are we so upset about again?

First the attached graphic to the story made me laugh. Probably because this is me on all counts.

Damn right I relish in the fact that I didn’t have to get my kids on the school bus and I know I’m not the only one. Ain’t no shame in that. Do I lounge in bed all day eating bonbons? Not a chance. I get my ass up, dress professionally, learn and network. But I definitely snicker a little when I think of my husband embracing the chaos while I lie in a little longer than usual in a bed free of dogs and children. *cue evil laughter*

MomTrip042413

I may not attack the mini-bar because as we all know, only idiots pay $10 for a Mars bar. That being said, I certainly eat what I want, when I want, when there’s no example to be set. Heck, I had M&M’s for breakfast once people. Watch out, “mommy” blogger on the loose.

I also enjoy love going to the conferences because they offer me a chance to socialize with women I know from online networks. Wait, that’s what they said.

Do I dance and pose for pictures? Guilty.

mommy blogger conferences

Let’s pretend I’m not a blogger though but a drug rep. Would I be any less inclined to enjoy the fact that I didn’t have to get my kids on the bus? Would I not enjoy meeting other reps from across the country that I spoke with daily through e-mail? The fact is that you could apply this graphic to a lot of moms, traveling to any conference.

Moving to the article itself, it starts with this:

Katherine Stone, a 43-year-old mother and wife from Atlanta, wants to leave her husband and children.

Hooks you doesn’t it? That’s what an article is supposed to do. I didn’t feel all “judgey” towards Katherine like she just set us all back a decade or something. Being a big girl, I was pretty sure almost immediately that she probably made a crack about escaping the kids and husband and they led with that. In fact, escaping the children was the focus of the whole story. There’s no question it’s a one-sided article meant to garner page views.  So, why pick on us? Well, because we’re kind of a big deal if you haven’t heard. You have to admit that had they written about dentist conventions it wouldn’t have had quite the same bite.

Let’s face it, piss off the “mommy bloggers” and you will feel the wrath…… and the page views. Very cagey that Wall Street Journal.

And maybe the blatant cry for attention wasn’t intentional, maybe it was a full on assault on women and bloggers. Maybe. I don’t think so though because there were nuggets of truth in there as well.

I’ve heard countless women relate how happy they are to catch a break from the daily grind while at these conferences. It may be said with humour but the sentiment is sincere. It doesn’t make you a bad mom, it makes you human. It’s also, obviously, not the whole story. So, why then are we offended when someone writes an article saying that moms enjoy catching a break from the daily grind? Are we so precious we can’t laugh at ourselves a little?

As for the whole “mommy blogger” moniker. I’m over it. For a time, every time someone would call me a “mommy blogger” I would get all holier-than-thou and correct them. Now, I just smile and nod. The media can continue to use it ad nauseam and I’ll continue to smile and nod and move on. Some day they’ll get it, or they won’t. Whatever. The newspapers are dying ladies, take solace that they are gasping their last breath. Soon, we “mommy bloggers” will rule the world. *cue more evil laughter*

And what of all these sponsorship dollars they speak of? Well that’s just a fact Jack. Nothing offensive in there. Then there’s this:

Event planners, networking organizations, travel agents and consumer-goods marketers are targeting these women by sponsoring conferences and conventions. They have figured out a simple way to make them happy: Give them a reason to go on a business trip.

Indeed. The mommy blogger or blogger conference has become big business. If we can’t admit that then we’re not being honest with ourselves.  It seems like a new one is popping up every week these days. As women, we are by our very nature, social creatures and so if they build it, we will come. There is also no doubt that these conferences can provide massive inspiration and motivation to it’s attendees, but how many do you attend before it becomes less about the socializing and networking and more about the escape?

The “art” of blogging is not so complicated that countless workshops are needed to master the technique. Yes, we could all benefit from workshops on skills but exactly how many do you need to attend? Is the same information not available on line? How many times a year and how much money do I need to spend to feel like I’ve really connected with my peers?

The amazing thing to me about conferences is that the best nuggets I’ve walked away with were gleaned while talking to other bloggers in the hall or over drinks. Once I had a light bulb moment in the washroom. The best information isn’t always found in the conference rooms. This always makes me ask, do I really need a conference or just a weekend away with some amazing women I know?

For me, the financial strain of attending these conferences started to weigh on me in the first couple of years. It was a very simple cost-analysis. When you subtracted the cost of the conferences from what I was making blogging, I was in the negative. See kids? You will use your math some day.

I’ve personally decided that one a year is my limit, unless of course my blog turns into the gravy train, then I’ll be escaping my children, er, I mean running off to learn, several times a year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Social Media & Living in a 911 World

April 16, 2013 By 11 Comments

Yesterday, when the news came through that explosions had rocked the Boston Marathon, I immediately turned to Twitter to get updates. After all, if you want the news fast and often in first person, Twitter is where you need to be. I read and absorbed as much as I could emotionally handle, sent out a tweet of condolences in a sea of thousands, retweeted something Liz Gumbiner (@MOM101) said and then I got the hell away from social media.

Because I knew. I knew like every other time something tragic has happened that it would turn quickly from a wave of support to a sea of vehement discourse. Offer up your prayers and someone is questioning how prayers are going to help, had a tweet scheduled about Product XYZ but you hadn’t heard the news yet or didn’t shut them off, prepare to be vilified. I knew that nothing good would come of hanging out on Twitter or Facebook……for me it would only make matters worse.

After the birth of my daughters, I took a little trip on the Crazy Train. Okay, “crazy” is harsh, let’s say I was on the Emotionally Unstable Train. As in, I thought every muscle ache, every headache, every rash, every gas pain meant that I had one of two things, Cancer or Aids. At least that’s what WebMD told me. This is why self-diagnosis by internet is a bad idea.

Certain I was on death’s doorstep I booked an appointment with my family doctor to, you know, get a second opinion. Now, my doctor, God love her, was incredibly patient with me. She sent me for tests that were all returned negative and suggested kindly that maybe I needed to talk to someone. I dismissed her out of hand and went home, momentarily relieved that I wasn’t dying. A month later though I was back in her office because this time I was convinced I had lung cancer. I was having a hard time breathing, there were times I couldn’t catch my breath at all and I felt like I was being smothered. Obviously all those years I spent smoking caught up with me and I was going to die. My doctor once again agreed to take a look but this time she insisted that I also go talk to a psychologist.

My girls around the time I thought I was doomed.

My girls around the time I thought I was doomed.

I often relate the story of visiting the psychologist as a bit of a epiphany for me. As soon as I sat down in his office the first words out of his mouth were, “You’re not breathing.” I laughed. “Of course I am.” I said. “No, you’re breathing like your out of wind, like you just ran a race. You’re not stopping to catch your breath.”

And then we talked. Floodgates opened and I cried and cried and all my anxiety about bringing two beautiful little girls into the world came pouring out. What if something happened to me? What if something happened to them? Damnit, I can not control everything!

We also talked about my obsession with the news. Daily, I must have checked the news about 20 times. I didn’t listen to music stations, I listened to news radio and in my down time I was reading opinion column after opinion column. My need to control the uncontrollable also meant that I needed to know what was happening every single moment in the world. As my psychologist pointed out, I was living in a 911 world. Always waiting for the next disaster. Never catching my breath because I was always on guard.

Surprise, surprise, he was right. So I laid off the news, I started working out daily to increase my levels of serotonin and I became an expert filterer.

Which brings me back around to social media. Thankfully, for me anyway, social media wasn’t really huge at the time I was going through this. I can only surmise that if it was I may have had a full mental breakdown.

When I was first introduced to Twitter, I had already adjusted to my “new” way of life and immediately saw the pitfalls in a platform that allowed thousands upon thousands of people to share their opinions on absolutely everything.(yes, yes, there are many positives as well)  Which is why, I walked away from it yesterday. I walked away from it after Newtown, and after the Aurora shooting and I will walk away from it during the next tragedy because more often than not the matter at hand becomes diluted with our own personal grievances about religion, politics, business or even someone’s poor spelling. We are silly creatures sometimes.

Having a filter is a good thing when tragedies like this happen.

Three people were killed yesterday and 140 injured. That’s all that matters. The rest is just noise. Sometimes the best way to deal with social media is to just walk away and catch your breath.

 

 

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Rape Culture Alive And Well In Canada

April 10, 2013 By 10 Comments

One month before she committed suicide, Rehtaeh Parsons posted a picture of herself on Facebook with a quote from Martin Luther King captioning it as such:

“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”

And in the end that is exactly what happened for Rehtaeh. It took 17 months, but eventually the silence of her friends became too much to bear and she left this world not knowing the storm of outrage she’d leave behind. I wonder if we knew 17 months ago what we know now, would Rehtaeh’s story had played out differently? Would we have been as outraged?

At 15 she was raped by four boys after drinking vodka at someone’s house. Let’s change that sentence for a second though. At 15 she was raped by four boys at someone’s house. You see, the vodka is actually of little consequence here. It is the first part of our reaction to rape that has to change. Many will see vodka in the story and immediately blame the alcohol. Well, if she hadn’t been drinking, this wouldn’t have happened. Really? I know lots of girls, myself included that drank at that age and weren’t gang-raped. Next, we go to “why was she at a house with four boys anyway?”. Again, victim-shaming.

Rape is rape is rape no matter where, when, who, or why it happens. It is wrong under any circumstances. Full stop.

rehtaeh-parsons

Now, let’s ask the real questions. Why did four boys feel it was okay to rape a girl? How is it that four boys actually have the same sick mentality? How is that four boys felt it was okay to distribute a picture of Rehtaeh being raped and not even fear consequences? This is immediately where our head should go, but instead we have been trained by society to always blame the victim. In some sick way, it makes us feel better. It gives us a way to reason out the horrific nature of the crime. Well obviously, if she hadn’t of done A then B wouldn’t have happened. Sort of like, if that young woman hadn’t boarded a bus to take her home she wouldn’t have been raped.

The humiliation and pain of being raped wasn’t the end for Rehtaeh but only the beginning. And for that, we only have ourselves to blame.

There are equally disturbing events that happened here besides the rape and subsequent distribution of child pornography.

How is it that a girl can be raped and then bullied by other girls? One of her “friends” on facebook left a comment reading “Sluts need to leave this school anyway”. So much for girl power. What kinds of conversations are happening in the homes of these girls who would leave such a comment? These girls should be outraged. They should be scared for their own safety. And they should have had Rehtaeh’s back. Instead, they added insult to injury and beat her down even further.

I also can’t help but put myself in the shoes of parents when something like this happens. My heart is heavy and sickened when I think of Rehtaeh’s parents. My rage is palpable when I think of this happening to my daughter. But what of the other parents? How would I feel if my son did something like this? Would I be so blinded by my love for him that I would ignore the facts in front of me? Would I force him to do the right thing and accept responsibility despite the consequences to his future? What of the parents of the bullies? Do they even know that their kids are complicit in a young girls death? If they know, did the conversations they had around their own dinner table contribute to the “slut” mentality?

Finally, why have these boys not been charged? Apparently, the RCMP investigated this case for a year and was unable to lay charges for lack of evidence. There is photographic evidence, not to mention four culprits, and another girl who was a witness. This reeks of incompetence.

If we remove the shame of rape from the victim and heap it on the perpetrator then we change the story. If we can re-train ourselves to be a more positive person, or a more fit person or a more productive person, than surely we can relearn how to react to rape.

My gut, as usual, tells me to lock my daughters up, but my gut is instinctive and mother bearish and when is comes to stuff like this, it’s usually wrong. My head tells me to stay alert, stay informed and talk to my girls about every single aspect of growing up in today’s society, no matter how uncomfortable it may make me feel. It tells me to model how to talk about other women. It tells me to speak up.

Make your voice heard and sign the petition here to demand an inquiry into the police investigation of Rehtaeh Parson’s rape. Educate yourself and your children about the media’s role in portraying women as sex objects by signing up at MissRepresentation.org. Finally, learn what rape culture is and change the conversation around your dinner table. Ours daughters and sons will have better lives if we step up now.

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Shut Your Damn Phone Off

March 27, 2013 By 19 Comments

We live in a society where most of us are attached to our phones. I am guilty of this myself with my hand often holding it for no other reason but to feel the comfort of knowing it’s there I guess. It’s become my fourth appendage, never far, always charged and ready to connect me to someone, somewhere in a nanosecond. This is not a good thing.

I remember what life was like before cell phones and portable tablets. It was much calmer. I suspect this is because I was unattainable during down time. You remember down time? The time we used to have alone when we weren’t concerned about work, what the guy you used to know in high school had for lunch, for what some perfect stranger just got upset about. Down time meant you were intrusion free and increasingly that is becoming obsolete. And it’s not just my phone that’s intruding, it’s others.

If you want to surf while on vacation, or sit on the bus and not talk to a stranger than I think you have that right. You are bothering no one. Who am I to judge? I’ve got attachment issues too. I draw lines though on where my phone is acceptable and not acceptable. Eating dinner with my family or friends, unacceptable. Eating lunch alone, acceptable. We all have to draw parameters around our phone usage or it will take over our life. That being said, I think we’re going to have start calling out the people who have no phone etiquette.

shut your damn phone off

Last year, while driving across the United States, high up in a seat in our motor home, I was appalled to see how many people were texting while driving. Warning: Graphic image if you click through.

Even though it’s illegal in most States and Provinces, most people just don’t care. You are eight times more likely to be in a car accident while texting. That’s double the odds of drinking and driving, and yet I continue to see people everyday getting that one little peek while driving down the highway. This is a perfect example of someone’s phone usage affecting those around them.

While on vacation in Jamaica last week, I came across three more examples of people using their phones in socially unacceptable ways.

As I’ve mentioned, my phone doesn’t come to the dinner table. If you want to bring yours, go for it, just not dining with me please, but I digress. If you want to bring your phone to dinner at a restaurant, go ahead. There is this neat little thing though on your phone called a silent button. Please, for the love of romantic meals everywhere, find it. Our meal last week was interrupted repeatedly by the man next to us texting. The best part was every time his phone would ding, loudly I might add — there’s volume too you know — he would sigh and roll his eyes like “how dare this person keep texting me”. Yes sir, not only are they bothering you and your pompous need to impress, but they are bothering everyone in the restaurant. Now, I don’t think it was my job to get up and tell this man to silence his phone, but I do think it was the restaurant’s responsibility to tell him to shut it off.

There is no place more sacred than the spa. Most women know it and dutifully shut their phone off upon entry. Imagine my surprise when last week, while receiving a lovely massage the masseuse started texting! You have go to be kidding me?! I’m in there for down time, and your phone is buzzing away?! So, I’m lying there with cucumbers on my eyes and my foot is being rubbed by two hands in the most magnificent way and *buzz*, one hand rubbing now and click, click, click….two hands, *buzz*, one hand, click, click, click…..you get the idea right? While I consider this one of the most shocking workplaces I’ve seen phones used, it’s definitely an epidemic. I’ve seen lifeguards, on duty, texting. I’ve watched the person behind the fast food counter hold up their finger to me and fire off another message before taking my order. So, maybe, just maybe, employers should ask for phones to be handed in at the beginning of the shift and picked up on the way out? Just a thought.

Finally, I know it’s a real drag when the flight attendants ask you to shut off all electronic devices upon take off and landing. That three minutes without your phone is scary, but they ask for a reason — your safety and the 297 other people you’re flying with. Now, I get that there is evidence to suggest that perhaps these devices aren’t interfering with the planes equipment at all. In fact, just yesterday, I heard the FAA is considering lifting that ban so that we can continue to play Candy Crush while heading off into the wild blue yonder. Oh, those will be happy days indeed. But you sir, you are the worst offender, because not only is your phone still on but your are sending and receiving messages while we’re landing! Device on, in airplane mode, probably ok. Device on, sending and receiving? Probably not. Now I’m not Albert Einstein, but I’m thinking you’re not either, so until the evidence is in, shut your damn phone off.

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Dog Wearing Underwear – Nothing Funnier

March 15, 2013 By 5 Comments

Last week, our 7 month old Bernedoodle suddenly became obsessed with his wiener. Not that he’s not always obsessed with it, but it was receiving an inordinate amount of affection if you know what I mean. To top it off, our other dog, was picking up the slack when Wookie’s tongue needed a rest. Now, I normally don’t pay attention to dogs and their disgusting grooming habits but when you’re woken up at two in the morning by an intense slurping noise, it’s time to investigate.

We rolled him over and sure enough, he had a rash all over his stomach and well, you know where else. So, off to the vet we go, where it’s determined that he has a bacterial infection and he’s prescribed antibiotics, instructions not to lick and I’m handed a $200 bill.

“So, the cone of shame?”, I say.

“Or a pair of underwear.”, says the vet.

The underwear seemed like the best bet because they would keep our other dog from licking as well. Also, I reasoned, they would be damn funny.

And they were.

dog wearing underwear

In fact, it was the best comic relief I’ve had in a long time.

Even the peanut gallery wanted pictures with him in his unmentionables.

picture taken with dog wearing underwear

And how can you not laugh when this goes walking past you?

dog wearing underwear - tail cut out

Doesn’t the look on his face say it all here?

dog wearing underwear wookie

So, the moral of this story here is if your dog has an infection and you have to choose between a cone or a pair of underwear, go with the underwear. The laughter will make the vet bill much less painful.

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Heart Attack – When A Loved One Dies

February 28, 2013 By 3 Comments

In late November, my husband had a heart attack. I waited a few months before I shared in this space about what happened to him. Almost immediately, I started to hear from those I know in the social media arena how I’d delivered a wake up call to them or to someone they knew. I received comments that they had forwarded my post to their husband, father, or friend. I am happy for that. It is a reality I wish on no one.

heart attack

A few days ago, I received a message from a woman I know via Twitter. We have never met in person and yet when her husband’s best friend died this week at 44 from a massive heart attack, it was me she reached out to, because she knew that I could relate. My heart aches for Shelley and her husband, for this man’s wife and children.

And I can relate. I can feel my adrenaline flowing just reading her words. I ask myself every single day since November 23rd, “What if?”.

This story is the “what if” I fear.

Shelley wanted to share her friend’s story here. I am grateful because if my husband’s brush with death delivered a wake up call to a few, I truly believe that Shelley’s story will save more than a few lives as well.

Heart Attack – When a Loved One Dies

We buried my husband’s best friend today. He was just 44 years old. Heart attack.

To be completely honest, I think I’m still in shock. We all want to believe that these sorts of things don’t happen to people you love, they happen to other people, other families. And yet, here we are.

How could it be possible that this vibrant, musical, generous human being is no longer with us?

The hole he leaves in our lives is enormous, but compared to others, it’s just a drop in the ocean.

His mother shouldn’t outlive her children.

His sisters no longer have their baby brother.

His teenage daughter will never have him walk her down the aisle or dance at her wedding or even know her children.

His friends have lost a loyal and trustworthy advisor. Summer bonfires will be smaller, more subdued without his guitar and his voice.

A stone thrown into a pond creates an ever widening circle, expanding outwards. The same can be said of the effect one person can have on many lives. This was one such person. Hundreds of people came out to pay respects, to attend the funeal, to say their goodbyes.

My heart breaks for his family and his friends; for those who called him their brother, even without blood to bind them together.

Part of me is angry too. Advice not taken brought us to this point. Why the recommendations went unheeded, we’ll never know. Pride? Arrogance? Plain old stubborness? Hard to say. Doesn’t change the fact that a part of me would like to grab him by the lapels and shake him a bit and say ‘Can’t you see how many people you affected? Can’t you see how big a void you’re leaving in their lives simply because you don’t want to see a doctor? Can’t you feel just how much you’re loved?’

I renewed my resolve to tell people I love them more often and to make time for the things that matter, because it can all disappear in an instant. I’ve added reminders to my calendar to remember to text and call and check in with people I can’t always see, simply because they might not be here tomorrow.

We live like there’s always tomorrow to say I love you or to reach out and touch someone. A lot of the time, that’s true, but not today. Not for our friend.

Our lives are so much richer for having had him in it. There are memories I will cherish forever and even now I can smile when I remember them.

We buried my husband’s best friend today, but I’m still not ready to say goodbye.

Pleasantville Note: You can assess your risk on The Heart & Stroke Foundations page here.

*image credit The Heart & Stroke Foundation of Canada

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Matters of the Heart

February 15, 2013 By 52 Comments

By Candace Derickx

matters of the heart

On November 23, 2012, thirteen years to the day I met him, my husband had a heart attack.

Picking up tile for our kitchen reno, his elbows began to hurt. In fact, on a scale of 1 to 10 for pain, his elbows were a 9, his heart, he said later, was maybe a four. Not surprising of course that he didn’t really know what was happening. Like most Canadians, we are not well versed in the symptoms of a heart attack.

He drove himself home, where he fell out of the truck onto the driveway. It was then he knew something was seriously wrong. He managed to get in the house and grabbed his iPad and looked up signs and symptoms of a heart attack. He then called 911.

I was coming up our street when I passed the ambulance. “Odd,” I thought, “where is that coming from?” I pulled in the driveway and saw his truck, came in the house and looked down the hallway to see our bedroom doors closed over. He must be having a nap I concluded and proceeded to put the groceries away, letting the worry of the ambulance leave my mind as fast as it had entered. I came to my office to start working and the phone rang. It was my neighbour across the street. “Hi Candace, let us know if there’s anything we can do.” I half laughed, “What are you talking about?”. “Oh, well we just saw Bill being taken away in the ambulance.”

I bolted for the bedroom to find my dog lying on our bed. Later I would find out that the ambulance attendants put her in there because she was losing her mind when they came in.

I was in a spin. I ran to the kitchen looking for blood. Surely he must have cut himself seriously while working on the kitchen I thought. Nothing. I paced and then picked up his iPad looking for a clue and I almost threw up when it opened. I knew then that he at least thought he was having a heart attack. I called 311 on one phone to find out where the ambulance was taking him and my parents on the other to come be here for the girls when they got off the bus.

The drive to the hospital was nothing short of surreal. I didn’t know if my husband was alive or dead, and my mind went to the worst possible places on that 20 minute drive.

Relief when I first saw him, soon gave way to disbelief when the doctors confirmed that he did indeed have a heart attack.

Tears. Anger. Fear. Guilt. Denial. You name it, we experienced that emotion in the days and weeks to follow.

What caused his heart attack? The first thing was stress. A master internalizer, my husband had been carrying around way too much on his shoulders and even added some more upon his self by taking on mammoth projects that saw him working 16 hour days sometimes. Secondly, smoking. The “it won’t happen to me” mentality kept him puffing away.

His heart sent him a wake-up call.

And why am I sharing all of this now? Because yesterday, while sitting in a restaurant for lunch with my husband a commercial from the Heart & Stroke Foundation came on that brought tears to my eyes. It makes me feel blessed that we have the opportunity to turn things around now and sad for those that will live their final years in ill health because they ignored the signs.

So, almost three months later, I’m ready to talk to start talking about matters of the heart.

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Death to Speedos

January 22, 2013 By 5 Comments

By Candace Derickx

And so it happened. On a recent trip south with my girls, they noticed. They are eight and ten now after all, so naturally they are beginning to note that men and women wear wildly different attire to swim in. Some wear bikinis, some wear one pieces, some wear swim trunks and some, well some wear Speedos.

And it was the Speedos that were causing them to stare, mouths agape, horrified looks in their eyes.

So, I leaned over to them at the pool and said, “You know what those are called, right?”

Eyes wide, leaning forward they were rapt. I could see them anticipating some very adult, clinical explanation that I felt they were finally mature enough to handle.

“Banana hammocks.”

They reeled with laughter. You see, even their mother doesn’t have the maturity to deal with Speedos.

I told them flat out what I thought. That I think they’re hideous….but that we must be accepting of them, as not everyone, as they could clearly see, hated them. That it was a very European thing to wear among men and indeed, we were surrounded by European men. European men that were a little long in the tooth to be sporting next to nothing, and had a little too much hair peeking out from the top of their barely there swimsuit. Men with bellies so large that they couldn’t tell you with certainty if they were dressed or not below their belly button. Men, who in all honesty, thought they were Golden Adonis’. And to be fair, there were a few delusional North Americans thrown in there for good measure as well.

I thought to myself — “Self, what women allows her husband to go out like this? What woman can control the laughter when her husband walks out in one of these? What woman is turned on by the sight of this? Self, why is their not a license to buy one of these? Excuse me Sir, I’ll need to see your Olympic medal before you can purchase this dingaling sling.”

Surely, I couldn’t be the only one thinking these incredibly immature thoughts. Surely, there must be others. So I hit my Facebook page and asked the question:

speedo facebook post

And I felt vindicated. Yes! If I could just find a way to organize us, I really thing we could get these grape smugglers banned. Who’s with me?

Watch for my next post: Ladies – Dental Floss Up Your Butt. 9 out of 10 dentists agree that’s not where it’s supposed to go.

 

 

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Things We Hope Go Away Forever in 2013

December 31, 2012 By 11 Comments

 

Ahhhh, the promise of a new year is just around the corner, and with that comes resolutions and promises for new beginnings. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could leave some things behind though?

With that in mind I approached some of my favourite people in social media and asked them to share three things with my readers that they hoped would die a quick and sudden death before the clock strikes twelve this New Year’s Eve. Most gave me three, one person had only one and my lobster, Kelli, gave me five.  What can I say? I know a lot of rebels. One thing is for certain — I think we can all agree that this list would be best left behind in 2012.

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