Friend For The Ride - Encouraging Words for the Menopause And Midlife Roller..
A Friend for the Ride blog is designed to take the worry out of the word. An author blog about everything from night sweats and food cravings to those days that feel like slogging through a swamp in your old tap shoes. She also touch on other aspects of womanhood and life, too.
Welcome to another edition of the Ladies Room Door Art series! Sadly, your curator has slipped up on the job. I don’t know where I took the above sign. It’s got an understated elegance about it. I like it!
Karen sent these funky doors from the Boathouse Restaurant in Disney Springs.
I found this pleasant sign at Pizza Peels in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Candice sent these lovely wolves from North Carolina State University.
Carol was impressed that even the ladies room is decked out at the Please Touch Museum in Philadelphia. She visited with her granddaughter.
Also from Carol, The Improper Pig in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Take a look at Hers:
And then His:
These are the restroom doors at the Gatewood House, a new restaurant here in Hillsborough.
Michele sent this spunky saying from the Salt Water Cowboys Restaurant in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina.
To finish this post with a jolt of color, here’s good ole Dunkin Donuts. I do think they could tidy up the tape mess underneath this bold and happy W.
That concludes another edition of our Ladies Room Door Art Series. Do keep Friend for the Ride in mind as you travel this summer. Every pit stop is a ladies room door opportunity waiting to happen. Send all doors to BKYounger@gmail. com. Thanks!
The thought of getting shingles terrifies me. My good friend, Lisa, got very sick with the disease a few years ago, and Judith Gray wrote about her shingles experience in a blog post on Friend for the Ride. Read Judith’s account here.
Yikes! Throw in the facts that one in three people will get shingles, that the risk grows as we age, and that shingles may leave you with postherpetic neuropathy, I say, “NO THANKS!”
Cliff and I got the original vaccine five years ago. Turns out that shot was only about fifty percent effective. When we heard that the new vaccine, Shingrix, is ninety percent effective, we signed up.
The vaccine is hard to come by. We put ourselves on our pharmacy’s list and waited about eight months. Then one night in the middle of dinner, the pharmacy called, telling us we needed to be there within 24 hours. I was ready to jump until I remembered friends telling me the shot made them feel sick.
I had an all-day art workshop three days later. Would I feel well enough? I decided to take my chances since if we didn’t get the shot this time, we were told we’d go to the end of the waiting list.
“Almost everyone reports a pretty sore arm,” the pharmacist told me as she swabbed my own arm an hour later. “Other reactions vary. Some people are so sick they’re on the couch all day. Others feel crumby but manage to carry on with the help of over-the-counter pain reliever.”
So here’s my report for those of you worried about reactions to the shot. I know all experiences are different.
I woke up at one AM, after having the shot at 7:30 PM, with a very sore arm and what felt like a mild flu. I took Tylenol and felt better fast. I’m a poor sleeper to start with though, and I was up four more hours before I finally went back to sleep. I felt really wired.
I spent the next day pretty tired, so it’s hard to know how much of my sluggishness was poor sleep and how much was the shot. I did take a few more doses of Tylenol over the next 24 hours.
Happily, I felt fine by the time I went to my art workshop a few days later. I did a tiny copy of Matisse’s pink lady:
Cliff got the shot the morning after I did and had the same very sore arm. He never felt as sick although he woke up in the middle of the second night feeling slightly feverish. Our sore arms lasted about three days. The arm was only sore to the touch and using that arm was no problem.
So that’s our scoop. Our reactions were not nearly as severe as I thought they might be. We take a second shot two to six months from now.
I just finished James Clear’s Atomic Habits: An Easy and Proven Way to Build Good Habits and Break Bad Ones. I’m head over heals in love with this book.
As I read, habit after habit popped into my mind-those I want to get rid of and those I’d like to add.
Here’s a quick description of the book from the publisher: “Clear is known for his ability to distill complex topics into simple behaviors that can be easily applied to daily life and work. Here, he draws on the most proven ideas from biology, psychology, and neuroscience to create an easy-to-understand guide for making good habits inevitable and bad habits impossible.”
As I write this post, I have a list of forty-three habits I’d like to either break or add. Wow!
When I tell my friends about my list, they say things like, “Isn’t that a bit excessive?” Another friend suggested such a long list implies a lack of self-esteem. Not true. I’m basically happy with myself, but there are for sure ways I’d like to change.
I’m pumped! I’m going to take it four at a time. When those four are conquered, I’ll add four more. So here we go with the first four:
Tea: I plan to limit my tea drinking to two cups. Since I put sugar in my tea, my three to five cup habit isn’t healthy. My cutback is mostly about sugar, but I do want to limit caffeine as well. My doctor says even morning caffeine can contribute to insomnia.
Interrupting: I have the rude habit of interrupting people. Enough said. Time to stop.
Scrolling Facebook: When I’m at odds as to what to do next, I scroll Facebook on my phone. I love Facebook. It’s been a great way for me to promote my art and this blog, and I’ve made wonderful connections with people near and far. But it’s definitely a time eater, and I’d love to reclaim some of that time for other activities.
Hand Weights: Although I walk about four miles a day, I haven’t been doing anything to build muscle, especially in my upper body. I need to use my hand weights. I’m also going to add resistance bands.
To help me remember the first four habits I’m working on, I’ve made them my laptop screensaver. Three are habits I want to eliminate and one is a habit I want to add. No clue yet which process is easiest.
I’m planning to chronicle my progress on Friend for the Ride. I’d love for some of you to join me. Choose a few habits of your own and see how you do in either eliminating a bad one or adding a good one. Guests posts welcome!
What’s spurring me on is visualizing my life a year from now. What if I’ve nailed the habits I’ve listed in this post? I’d be delighted. What if I can nail more? Fabulous!!
GIVEAWAY: I’m giving away one copy of Atomic Habits to a lucky Friend for the Ride reader. For a chance to win, please enter a comment by August 1. Thanks!
A guest post by writer Marla Mulloy on a favorite topic here at Friend for the Ride, the bathroom. Thank you Marla!
I have had some truly lovely moments in washrooms.
In London it’s a loo. In Australia, it’s a toilet. In Canada it’s a washroom or a bathroom. Whatever the name, I have had some truly lovely moments in bathrooms. A better name for them would be Escape Rooms. A place to escape. Sometimes it has been my favorite part of a party or a gathering. The few moments I spent in the washroom, longer than necessity would have dictated, were the grounding moments, the only moments of calm, the reason I was able to continue visiting or listening or watching. I often enter a washroom with a great sigh of relief, almost gratitude. I breathe, I rest, I settle.
I don’t have a condition that necessitates I be close to a washroom for bodily function purposes. I am not a decorator, although I have gotten some pretty solid interior design goodies from bathrooms. I don’t hate large gatherings. Well, I actually sort of do. I am a normal person who gets overloaded, easily saturated on talk and noise and interactions. The bathroom can be my social/emotional savior.
I have been in bathrooms that are nicer than most of the rooms in my house. I have been in bathrooms that are bigger than my bedroom. I have been in bathrooms that I never wanted to leave; they were so beautiful and inspiring. And quiet.
A friend’s washroom, just across from the long white granite kitchen island, where everyone gathers and exclaims and cracks pistachios as they watch something delicious being created yet again, is almost a religious experience. It is a tiny bathroom, but the ceiling is 12 feet above me, almost like sky. The walls are a tall expanse of deep violet, one of them holds a long, narrow frame of Hebrew poetry, direct from Israel, full of soft color, intricate figures, reaching tall and thin toward the white ceiling. I could look at it for hours. The sink is a glass bowl, slightly off kilter, thick and smooth, a vessel, a collector of drops. There is a violet glass prism both hefty and delicate on the counter beside the soap. I go to this bathroom like I would go into a church, for a moment of solitude and meditation before returning to the conversation outside.
I have been in restaurant bathrooms that are full of wood and wrought iron and gorgeous paintings, enough space to sit and ponder like you were in a gallery. I leave behind all of the noise and chaos and littered tables outside and sit for a moment, remembering who I am.
I remember a mall washroom where everything was white and new, space enough to engage in a full yoga practice if you so desired, or twirl and watch your skirt spin in the gigantic, infinitely clean mirror covering the whole wall. You could sing an aria; the acoustics would be out of this world. The actual toilets were around a corner, there were settees of velvet to recline upon. It was a shopping mall, for goodness sake. I was perplexed and in awe all at once. And soothed.
I spend a lot of time in coffee shops, and I love the little bathrooms around the corner from the cream and sugar, displaying the local piece of art or ads for yoga and snow shoveling services. Sometimes they are blank and sweet, with a single succulent on a tiny shelf. Sometimes they are storage for the broom and the box of toilet paper. Sometimes they smell really nice, with 3 ply toilet paper. And always, I visit them at least twice as I pour coffee and water into my mouth, punch away at my keyboard, trying to get my word count up; they give me a bit of distance to reflect, to validate and to gather my senses again and go forth, back to the work of being human.
This love of the loo may be a direct result of aging. I am a middle-aged woman, finished with one career and working on another. My children have turned into adults and live far away. My need for action is declining. FOMO is waning. What I want is to be centered, grounded, quiet, alone. Maybe it is just me, my introvert self rising. Maybe it is the path of life. Either way, a washroom can be a beautiful thing.
Marla Mulloy is a writer with an evolving collection of essays, poems and stories, having been recently published in “The Timberline Review” and “Brevity Blog”. She has been a teacher and now works with refugees in Calgary. Much of her writing reflects the experience of refugees, documenting through story the paths that brought them here and how they create home in new places. She continues to share her writing through her blog, www.tossingwords.wordpress.com.
But I was still crossing my grateful fingers that today my doctor would dismiss me from her care. The huge parking garage makes me nervous, and the hospital bill for a ten minute check up would buy a lot of dinners out. A whole lot.
Most of all, I wanted to NOT have to go back anymore because that would mean I am a five-year cancer survivor. I wanted to be this person:
After a bit of a wait, the nurse called me into the exam room. “Dr. Gerhig will be in shortly,” she said after asking me a ton of questions. Then she left, closing the door behind her.
I whipped out my phone and snapped a selfie for Friend for the Ride and for myself. I worked fast. I didn’t want the doctor to catch me taking a selfie in her exam room and think I am majorly weird.
About ten minutes later, there was a knock. “Come in.”
We talked about what I was to do if I had any symptoms. She instructed me to visit my gynecologist, who would determine if I needed to see Dr. Gerhig next. Menopausal women can bleed for many reasons, but I am to rush to the doctor with even a spot of blood. We also discussed genetic testing, which I’ve decided to do (more about that later).
The actual exam takes about five minutes. I always hold my emotional breath.
“Looks good,” Dr. Gerhig said.
When I got off the table, she hugged me. “This is huge. Five years cancer-free is very significant.”
Then I said to her what I’ve said for five years: “Thank you for saving my life.”
She left, and my eyes welled up with tears.
My good news plan was to celebrate with the same beautiful and delicious cookie I celebrated with in this post:
But alas, the hospital Starbucks didn’t have any sunflowers, so I selected a cookie pop. It’s got a bit of an anatomical look to it, which is either slightly funny or kind of gross.
I’m not sure I even tasted that cookie pop. I was too wound up.
When I got to the parking garage, I gave the hospital a long glance. My guess is I’ll be back, for one reason or another, but hopefully, my days as an endometrial cancer patient are over.
My happy mind spun. Was I going to jinx myself by sharing my news? By being so happy?
But I couldn’t hold back. I posted on Facebook and enjoyed the kind words of so many. Since the beginning, I’ve been open about my illness. Endometrial cancer is the most common gynecological cancer and the most curable if caught early. My goal is to spread the word.
Cliff bought me festive handmade presents in celebration the next week at the Farmer’s Market in Charlottesville.
I’m especially fond of my new checkbook cover. I’ve had the same green plastic one for 35 years.
Of course my CHECK UP was present enough. It’s one of the best presents of my life because on that good day I got to spread my arms wide and say:
This post was written for us by Logan Biggs of Home Care Delivered. Take it away, Logan, and thank you!
Defeating Your Bladder Leakage: Tips for Reducing Accidents
Losing control of your bladder can feel like you’ve also lost control of your life. Instead of you calling the shots, it’s now your bladder in charge, telling you what you can do, when you can do it, and where you can go.
Nobody’s day should be dictated by bladder leakage, especially when there are so many ways to keep it under control. A little understanding of what’s going on, and how you can manage it manage it, can go a long way.
Bladder Leakage – Why It Happens
Bladder leakage is not a disease, but a sign of another medical condition. Many things can cause it: Pregnancy, lower estrogen, and even gynecological surgeries like hysterectomies. Another culprit is the weakening of the sphincter muscle. The sphincter muscle is what keep the bladder closed. As we age, that muscle loses some of its strength, making it harder to hold urine, allowing leaks.
Start with your feet parallel to the hips. Slowly bend your knees and lower into a squat. Ideally, the thighs should be parallel to the floor. Extend your arms so they align with the head and upper torso.
Viparita Karani Variation – Legs Up the Wall Pose
Lie on your back and place your hands behind your hips. Slowly lift your legs until they are straight and perpendicular to the floor. Arch your back and tuck the chin slightly towards the chest.
Salamba Set Bandhasana – Supported Bridge Pose
Lie on your back and clasp your hands together under your hips. Lift your hips off the floor until your upper and lower torso are flat. Keep your feet flat and arch your back.
Kegels & Pelvic Exercises
Kegels and other pelvic exercises can also help strengthen the sphincter and reduce bladder leakage. When doing Kegels for incontinence, there are a few things to keep in mind:
Find the right muscles – Make sure you’re working the muscle group that’s connected to your bladder. To find it, begin urinating and then try to hold it. The muscle group that contracts is the one you want to target.
Do enough repetitions – You’ll need to do at least 60 reps per day in order for the Kegels to have a lasting effect on bladder leakage.
Don’t overdo it – Like all exercise, working the pelvic muscles too hard can cause damage and could weaken the muscles further. Make sure you rest your body and give yourself time to recover.
For more information about Kegel exercises, visit this guide.
Yoga and Kegels will only reduce bladder leakage if the it’s being caused by weak muscle strength. For other kinds of incontinence, the best solution may be an absorbent product.
Some women default to using feminine products because that is what they are familiar with, and worry that an incontinence product will add bulk or be uncomfortable. Today’s incontinence products are very thin, discreet, and easy to manage while on the go. The real trick is choosing the right one for you. Here are some tips to help you out:
Pick the right product – There are three basic types of incontinence products: bladder control pads, pull-on underwear, and adult briefs. Each one is made to handle a different level of leakage, so make sure the product you choose can handle your needs.
Make sure it fits – Incontinence products only work as well as they fit. Generally, they should be snug against the skin and cover enough area to prevent urine from escaping.
Note: Medicaid and a few private insurance plans will cover the cost of incontinence supplies. If you have Medicaid, check out this Medicaid guide to incontinence supplies to see what’s available in your state.
A few weeks ago at a bridal shower, a friend pointed to my legs and said in a voice of astonishment, “You’re wearing pantyhose!”
She was right. It’s true.
As the world has turned against pantyhose, I embrace them. Here’s why.
In cooler weather, they keeps my legs at least somewhat warm.
They smooth out all imperfections in the skin on my legs. Pantyhose cover pokey veins too.
Dress shoes eat my feet. When I wear pantyhose, I have no trouble with blisters. I know I could wear the footie things, but they slip down. Plus they hide in my dresser drawers, never to be found again.
I don’t find pantyhose uncomfortable like so many women do. I buy a size that fits me well.
I don’t wear them in the summer. They definitely are hot. But the rest of the year, I’m a pantyhose girl.
Menopause brings bravery and a what the hell attitude (some of the time). Yet I am definitely interested in staying stylish and watching the nerd appeal as I age.
So what to do? Wear them or not?
I’ve decided to be a pantyhose nerd. I wear super nude shades (to try to hid the fact I’m wearing them) and in the winter, black sometimes, which I swear still looks stylish under the right dresses.
What about you? Are you a pantyhose nerd or do you hate them? Do tell!
I love menopause! Despite it’s challenges, I think its a liberating and creative and transforming time in a woman’s life. But as you may have noticed, I’ve been focusing on menopause less in recent years. I’m now so far out from the Great Pause that I have trouble coming up with fresh material on the subject. I’ve turned to other topics that are pulling at my heart and body and mind.
So those of you who are in the midst of menopause or approaching it, I encourage you to follow the many fine menopause bloggers on the Healthline list. I hope Healthline will continue to include me since there are plenty of menopause posts in the Friend for the Ride archive, and menopause will still be featured from time to time.
Is it okay with you, oh loyal and wise and gentle readers, that I’ve mostly moved on to other topics? Do tell me how you feel. Thanks!