Look Who I Found!

I'm going to hazard a guess that the lovely and well spoken lady in this Bausch and Lomb video identified only as "Amy from Plano Texas" is our very own Amy Junod, author of the Sjogren's blog Falling With Grace. Amy, am I right?

Amy describes with eloquence her Sjogren's syndrome symptoms and path to diagnosis. Take a look.

I may even dust.

Hey. I think I need this toilet brush when I do Halloween cleaning. 

So. What's everyone doing for Halloween night? We're having a gang of folks over for a pot-luck dinner, so I'm doing my before-the-party cleaning today. If I'm a good girl and get my chores finished Friday, then on Saturday, I can save up my energy for Halloween fun.

See y'all tomorrow.

SSF: How I Found a New & Happier Life with Sjogren's

I really hope that you routinely read the excellent Sjogren's Syndrome Foundation's blog - Conquering Sjogren's: Follow us on our journey to change the face of Sjogren's. The blog features individual Sjogren's syndrome patient stories, posts in which doctors answer frequently asked patient questions, and articles containing all kinds of useful information from reputable sources.

This month's post is outstanding: How I Found a New & Happier Life with Sjogren's by Janet E. Church.

My Sense of Humor is Dry, and so is Everything Else! I’ve always had a dry sense of humor coupled with an optimistic personality. But I must admit, when I was diagnosed with Sjögren’s, it took me quite a bit of time to go through the grieving process and create a bold life with my sense of humor intact. 

I love those stories about people who are able to accept the diagnosis and immediately say, “Sjögren’s, I may have you but you will not have me.” That was not my experience. In fact, I found that that more I challenged my Sjögren’s, the more it did have me! 

Like all of you, I now can look back and pinpoint when I was presenting early Sjögren’s symptoms. My early symptoms began in 1997 as ongoing sinusitis and exhaustion. For a decade, symptoms escalated until I was hospitalized for two weeks.  Nine-months after my hospitalization I was finally diagnosed with Sjögren’s January 2007. 

I was relieved to have the diagnosis and excited to look Sjögren’s in the face and tell it, “You will not have me! I am a fighter, an optimist, a model patient and I will knock you down.” 

Although it turns out a fighting attitude was not what I needed and it took three years for me to find my way after my diagnosis........continue reading here. 

Sjogren's Has it's Own Superhero

My goodness! I don't know how I could have missed seeing these awesome videos of my favorite Sjogren's water sprite Super Hydrating Nixie! Found on Amy Junod's blog Falling With Grace. Images and music by Super Nixie's creator, Cole Bothun. Enjoy these videos -- but a word of advice. Watch them more than once so that you can see everything including what those posters on the wall say. I especially enjoyed the Dots for Eyes one and the Weapons of Mass Dehydration van. Take a look:

Life and Work and Sjogren's

I like Angry Orchard brand of cider best. But then, that's just me. 

Every now and then, mostly after I've enjoyed a cool, fizzy, and refreshing glass of hard apple cider, I let myself daydream about going back to work. If I have had TWO cool, fizzy, and refreshing glasses of hard apple cider, I fantasize about throwing my stethoscope around my neck and slipping into a set of scrubs, then zooming off to my fabulous job in nursing as........well. Right about here my fantasy begins to crumble around the edges. Because even while under the influence of fermented apple juice, I still realize my huge physical limitations with respect to employment. As in It's Just Not Going To Happen, Julia.

Dang.

Bev and I went shopping today, and I couldn't physically walk through two stores without breaking out into a soaking sweat and my knee screaming. And then we all know what happens to my brain after I've expended too much of my energy reserves, don't we, hm? Yes, we do. Repeat after me:

Tired Equals Stupid.

So I just can't for the life of me figure out how I could possibly be successful in nursing given those limitations. I'll bet that everyone reading this has had some kind of similar thoughts regarding employment in any kind of job.

Which brings us to another topic, which is -- if Sjogren's syndrome does disable you leaving you unable to work, how does one cope with the tidal wave of mixed emotions that arrive with this decision? I continue to battle guilt, anger, frustration, and envy of others' health and energy and fulfilling jobs. Along with huge relief that I don't have to fight my disease to accomplish any kind of success in the workplace.

Are you able to work with Sjogren's? Have you had to modify your job or your home life to make working.....um.....WORK? And if you aren't able to work, how did you come to peace with that reality? I would really love to hear about your thoughts and experiences, so share them in the comment section below.

Christine Molloy, nurse, author and blogger has been experimenting with balancing her life/Sjogren's/work schedule. You can read her most recent post on her blog Thoughts and Ramblings on Life, Love, and Health here:

I've been wanting to do some blog posts about work and chronic illness and I've wanted to write a little about my new job, so I guess this is as good a place to start as any. 

As I've mentioned previously, I am in the homestretch of a very challenging and difficult month schedule wise. I am really hoping, that things will settle down a little for me once we go into November. I am definitely not getting the recovery time I physically need right now. 

That got me to thinking this morning. I typically work two days a week for a total of fourteen hours. I also sometimes work a third day at my substitute school nurse job although lately that is rare. I am working three days this week. I honestly don't understand how people with chronic illnesses like Sjogren's (or any other illness) work full-time. I say that because all along that has been my ultimate goal: to get back to a full-time nursing job. I started with subbing, now I work part-time, and I was hoping full-time would be doable within the next year or so. Continue reading here. 

Keep us all posted, Christine. 

Triple Dunk

Yesterday, I watched not ONE, not TWO, but THREE precious babies being baptized.

Life is so good.

It Was Great

I'll betcha you can pick Terese out in this crowd. What a wild woman.

WHAT a party! Last night. Our house. My favorite kind of gathering where people unexpectedly just kept coming in my front door bringing food and adult beverages and more people.

I did not know several of these fine folks but by the evening's end, we were all bosom buddies.

What a hoot. Time to rest up. See y'all tomorrow.

Julia Plus Sedation Equals Weirdo-ness

It has been at least six months since I have been in that office, yet when I walked into my oral surgeon's building yesterday, the staff yelled, "Julia!". Kind of like when Norm walks into Cheers.



Yeah. Like that.

I smiled and returned their greeting, yet silently I was wondering, What the heck? How come they remember me? They must have seen a zillion people since I was here last.

I have had only one procedure here. Ever. And it was simply to evaluate and extract an abscessed tooth. I thought back to that appointment and realized that my recollection of that event was.....not exactly......complete.

Oh, no. Ah, geez........../facepalm/

Yeah. It occurred to me that the reason I don't remember much is because I was hopped up on pain pills. And whenever I take any kind of opioid or narcotic, I become very very HAPPY. And CHATTY. And LOUD. I supposed that the reason the staff remembered me was not because I demonstrated a sparkling wit or intelligent conversation; but rather was doofus beyond reason.

I would have remembered that kind of patient back when I was a nurse, so I completely understood.

So I smiled and returned everyone's greetings, noting that I was met with expectant expressions. As if the staff was waiting to see what I would do during this appointment. Because they were hoping it would be as entertaining as the last time I visited.

Having realized what must have transpired before, I attempted to keep my conversation sedate and pleasant -- but not doofus. Which was difficult. But I think I succeeded. Which was very important since the reason for this go-around was to be evaluated for a very expensive dental implant and I wanted to have a completely serious discussion about the criteria for needing one, the risks and recovery after having the procedure, various types of sedation during the placement of the implant (I will receive nitrous oxide and local anesthetic), and the cost of the treatment. I was pleased that our conversation met all of my goals for the day and I left feeling proud of my adult-like behavior. The staff said good-bye with pleasant professionalism.

I think they were disappointed.

Ah, but just wait, people. When I show up for my next appointment and as the nitrous oxide begins to flow, y'all can expect HAPPY. And CHATTY. And LOUD. Because nitrous evokes the same response in me that pain pills do. The last time I had N2O must have been....um...interesting for my dentist:

.......Nitrous oxide, however, makes all things tolerable in the dentist's chair. Not only tolerable, but even mildly amusing. I was trying to hum "Yellow Submarine" around at least a pound of gauze and another two pounds of hardware.  I love nitrous.  The dentist was called away mid-procedure, so I was left alone for a few minutes blissfully babbling and inhaling deeply.  

In my warm fuzzy little drug induced cloud, two large red objects swam in and out of view, capturing my attention. Well, good golly. They were shoes. MY shoes. I had never noticed before how attractive they were, even if they were a dainty size eleven. (I am not kidding - size eleven. I have some serious real estate attached to the end of my legs). 

Dang, I thought. I have great taste in shoes.  

When Dr. E. returned, I was engrossed in examining every detail of those shoes. Red canvas. White stitching. Elastic curly laces. Who knew they were so interesting??
As Dr. E. returned to my chair, I shoved one foot near his face and declared, "Would you just LOOK at these shoes? These are great shoes. Wonderful shoes. They're my very luckiest shoes!" 

Well, that's what I said. Actually, what came out of my mouth around all the equipment probably sounded like "wffwwuuuulOOOOOOkshOOOz!!!"  

Dr. E. deftly reached past the floating size elevens and turned down the nitrous. Rats. 

So. Oral surgeon staff? Be patient. When I show up for my procedure, there's a high probability of the return of Julia doofus-ness.

If you look at my class, I'm the sweaty one.

Image found here. 

I carry a couple of sections of paper towels with me to my tai chi classes so I can mop the disgustingly copious amounts of sweat that I produce during the hour. This is more than a little bit embarrassing since I am the only one in class that even breaks a sweat while doing what others have told me are "totally relaxing movements".

I believe them, really I do -- because I've seen these people complete the moves with easy, fluid grace without breaking even the tiniest bit of sweat. Our instructor has started to turn on the gas fireplace at one end of our class area because of multiple complaints that it's just too cold in there. I'm trying not to become disheartened about this. I know that even at my best, I'm still exercise intolerant. And after a flare, even though I can feel some of my energy return, I still have to be patient as my tolerance to any kind of exertion rebounds.

As I was soaking my paper towels during class today with yukky sweat, I thought of something that helped me to reframe this. I was looking out the window of the building during class and noticed the grounds maintenance crew outside cleaning up their landscaping. They were edging and weeding and, well...just doing all their maintenance stuff. And it occurred to me that my fatigue was kind of like the need for weed control.

Yes. This is strange but bear with me here and read to the end of my post. THEN you can say I'm strange. And I will completely agree.

I thought about keeping my flower beds weed-free. And then thought about what would happen if I just decided to quit weeding this imaginary garden for a month. When the month was up and I grabbed my gardening gloves, the weeds would still be there plus even more weedy-type buddies; so I'd have to work harder and longer to get back to square one, weed-wise. And it would only be then that I could expect to cruise along at my pre-month-long-weed-vacation work levels.

Which is what it's like when I have a flare. Being in a flare means that I have to just quit doing stuff for awhile. And when I am ready to begin doing stuff again, I can't just pick up where I left off. It takes hard work and persistence to get back to my previous levels of ability.

Autoimmune disease. Gardens. Flares. Weeds. Oh brother. Guess if conjuring up bizarre imagery keeps me going back to class, why then -- that's what I'll do.

Back to Back to the Future Day

I realized that yesterday was "Back to the Future Day" about four hours before it was over.

We loved those goofy movies. The kids played those movies so much that they almost wore the VCR tapes out. So it's been fun to refresh my memory with these tidbits about Marty, Doc, Biff and the rest of the gang. In case you've forgotten what the big deal is all about, let me share a few items that may jog your memory:

You can learn the names of the cast members, watch the trailer from the movie, and get a plot summary on IMDb, here.

Found here.

Source: Superscholar.org

Tom Wilson, who played Biff in the movie, has been asked so many questions about the movie that he wrote Biff's Question Song:

Ahhh. Good memories. Pass the popcorn. 

I'm Glad That You Told Me

When I asked in an earlier post, "How is your life right now?" I meant it. And I'm glad that so many of you responded. Even though at a cellular level, Sjogren's is the same for all of us; to what that translates is so different for each of us.

It is good to hear everything -- the good, the bad, and everything in between from everyone. I'm in a rather rough patch right now but it helps to know that any time I share symptoms that seem so bizarre to me, inevitably I hear from others with autoimmune disease tell me something along the lines of, ME TOO! This is immeasurably comforting.

So thanks for sharing. I appreciate it.

See you tomorrow.

Sjogren's Syndrome and Men: Resources are Too Few

When I was diagnosed with Sjögren's, my first thought was…
"I'm a man, I cannot have this." I represent one of the 10% of men who suffer from Sjogren’s. I am 47 and was diagnosed with Sjogren’s at 44. It took about 10 years from onset of dry eye symptoms in 1999 to get diagnosed. As a man with a predominately women's disease, I feel isolated and alone.

Sjögren’s is not just a dry eyes and dry mouth disease, although I really wish it was. The fatigue, joint and nerve pain can be intense at times. I try not to complain but it is so difficult. I am currently on disability from work but hope I can get back to work.

I still do not have control of my Sjögren’s, but I am not going to let this disease beat me. I am going to try to do my best at fighting this disease.

I am uncertain about my future and worry what it will bring, but worrying will just cause me stress and thus more flares. I need to take better care of myself so I can help my family in whatever capacity I can. I really would like to cry at times, but I cannot let my wife and kids see me this way. I am thankful that my family is healthy and that none of them have to go through this. However in a way, they are going through this as well because they are seeing what it is doing to me.

Sjögren’s has taught me to value life and to appreciate what I have. There are so many others who are suffering worse than me. I have learned that I will never be normal again because of this disease. I need to discover my new normal and get used to it.

I am going to be strong. -Joe  From Faces of Sjogren's found on the Sjogren's Syndrome Foundation website found here.

Over the past few weeks, I've received a few emails asking for information specific to men with Sjogren's. I'd be happy to oblige with the few resources that I have. If you have additional sources, please let me know and I'll add them to this post. I'd also love to be able to add links to Sjogren's blogs written by men. Do you know of any? Send me the link. If you're a male with Sjogren's? Consider writing one!

At this point, I only have two male-focused resources to pass along: 

The Sjogren's Syndrome Foundation's newsletter The Moisture Seekers contained the following useful information:

Are you a man living with Sjogren's? You are not alone! 

Please contact the Sjogren's Syndrome Foundation (SSF) at 800-475-6473 or send an email to tms@sjogrens.org to sign up to receive special mailings, focus group information and notices about teleconference support group calls for "Men with Sjogren's".  

We know you will find the SSF's Men with Sjogren's support group a great resource for interacting and exchanging helpful coping techniques with other men who live with Sjogren's --- just like you!  

Sign up today!

A  group with the title "Sjogren's Syndrome For Men" can be found on Facebook here. This information about the group:

I am your group founder and administrator. My name is Bill Simpson. As I am from the Buffalo NY area and as a diehard Bills fan... my friends all call me "Buffalo Bill"
This is a group dedicated to men who suffer from Sjogren's Syndrome.  

It is open to men only. We are open to all men who suffer from this disease, no matter your race, religion, nationality, sexual inclinations, or political ideals. 

RULES: We will not tolerate profanity, sexist or racist comments, name calling, political or religious debates, rudeness or other forms of bad manners.  

No sexual comments (except for issues related to the disease itself) No coarse humor. Let's keep it G Rated. 
I will delete posts or comments which violate the rules.
Habitual offenders will be removed from the group. 

We WILL however encourage exchanges about our common interests related to Sjogrens. 
Everything from diet, cooking and recipes, exercise, medications, music, books or whatever.
And if the discussions go towards boxing, football or other sports... well... that's ok too. 

We are here to exhort and encourage each other, and to exchange and share information related to this disease. 

We shall fellowship as gentlemen.

Keep in mind that with a few exceptions, information and links about Sjogren's Syndrome and other autoimmune information applies to men and women, so take a look at my left sidebar using a non-mobile device for links to information, websites, and blogs. The Sjogren's World Forums has male participants as well as female. Check it out. 

It's all in the raisin.

John and I are on a quest.

Yet again.

This time, we're looking for a loaf of raisin bread. No, really we are. Because we've spent far too much money on small loaves with beautiful cinnamon-y and raisin-y pictures on the packaging but hard, dry, tasteless loaves inside the bag.

Blech.

We take our cinnamon raisin toast very seriously.

I decided to try to replicate the soft, fluffy, sweet, and raisin-packed loaves that we both remember from our childhoods, but in all honesty I'm a little worried that this particular recipe isn't the one that I'm looking for. I had to stop the bread machine after it had finished kneading, leaving two separate blobs of dough. I stuck them together, smushed it all into an approximate loaf shape and returned it to the pan. The dough felt kind of strangely dense yet moist.

It called for a full cup of raisins. Does that seem too many for one loaf? We'll see.

Anyone have recipes to share?

I'm just wondering....

Writing a blog is a very good thing because I can blab endlessly about how I feel and what I've done, etc. etc. etc. But sometimes I want to know what is going on in YOUR lives. How y'all are feeling and what excellent and not so excellent things you've been up to?

Share.

She's a Stinker

We are doggysitting our granddog while my son and my daughter in law are attending a much anticipated fun event in Manhattan.

Having Frodo here is a mixed blessing. Even though I love that little corgi to pieces, really I do.

It's just that Lulu's spoiled rotten dogginess becomes epic when another dog besides the Skipper doodle stays with us which means more of my energy and attention needs to be spent.  Every time I throw a toy for Frodo to fetch -- his favorite thing to do in the whole world -- she beats him to the toy and either hides it or puts it in a stack that she's obviously claimed as hers and hers exclusively.

I seriously think she has just told him to go stand in a corner in this picture. As she gnaws the piggyskin chews and makes all the toys squeak. So he does as he's told, silly boy. 

Then I have to stop what I'm doing to go snag all of the toys away from Lulu, and put both dogs on a down with one of their favorite toys within snout's reach. It's pretty amazing how long they'll do this.

Frodo becomes totally exhausted by the whole exercise. When I think they've been good for long enough, I grab a ball and toss it, and they actually play nice for awhile.

But not for too long; when my attention is directed elsewhere, Lulu is up to her old tricks again, of course.

See Frodo looking longingly at the ball which is almost equally far from Lulu as it is to Frodo? She must have told him somehow that he couldn't have it. Because he doesn't even try.

I think that I enjoy this far too much  because it reminds me so much of what it was like having little kids in the house. What fun.

Fog Covered Lace

I wanted to share a couple of pictures with y'all. Lately, even though most of the days here are sunny and clear, the mornings begin foggy. Drippy, misty, clouds-on-the-ground foggy. I stood on my deck with my morning coffee and noticed....something......about fifteen feet up in one of my big trees. Was that an enormous spider web?

Yikes! It was.

I thought that it appeared delicate and lacy when covered with dew. Kind of beautiful in a spidery sort of way. Gee. I wonder if the spider that made this huge web was of proportionate size?

I don't think I want to find out.

Tai Chi and Me

I've been searching for some kind of exercise that I can do while in this dumb stupid knee brace; and a type that won't leave me crashed in bed for two days after. Swimming doesn't work for two reasons: 1) My lower back hurts after swimming irregardless of what types of strokes I do, and 2) Taking off my brace which requires undoing oodles of velcro straps, then taking off my clothes and THEN putting on my swimming suit leaves me exhausted even before I get into the pool. I've looked in on a yoga class or two and realized that those classes would be too strenuous and not brace friendly. Walking is out of the question since my knee just can't handle anything more than a city block.

And then one day on my way home from the local produce store, I passed a sign set up outside our community center which advertised Tai Chi classes.

Hm. So close by. And I've heard that Tai Chi is supposed to be pretty gentle exercise, I thought. So I pulled into the parking lot and went inside. My timing was perfect -- a class was just about to start and the instructor noticed me peeking into the class site. He invited me in and I had a chance to ask questions. Encouraged by his assurances that I would only have to do what I felt comfortable with, I signed up. I also liked the fact that I could wear any kind of comfy clothes over with no wardrobe changes required. Bonus.

Yesterday was my first class, and it goes without saying that I clomped and stumbled my way through  it all. But I was motivated by the other newbie -- a young man in his 30's recovering from a serious stroke that had affected his entire left side. His ankle and lower leg were splinted and the mobility in his hand was a bit limited but he was a real trooper. He told me that he has progressed from being bedridden to completely ambulatory with his splint. What hard work and dedication! The other class members seemed to be friendly and welcoming as well.

This morning as I opened my eyes, I experimentally moved my arms and legs, then got out of bed, wondering if I would awake to zero energy and sore muscles, but by golly.........it seemed that although I had my old familiar aches and pains, I didn't seem to have acquired any new ones. Yet.

I'm heading back. I'll keep y'all posted.

Need to find your liver? Look at this.

I like this illustration of human anatomy.  From The Awkward Yeti, found here.

Vox: Julie Bien on Lupus

Check out this post found on Vox: First Person. It's written by a young woman with lupus. Although Sjogren's and Lupus are two distinct diseases, still they're both autoimmune in nature; and the patients in both disease groups share very similar feelings and concerns. It's entitled: I have lupus. Here are 8 things I wish people understood about my disease. Her discussion about the seventh "thing" resonated with me. I've put up a small portion of her post, so head over there to read the piece in it's entirety.
by Julie Bien on October 12, 2015

7) I'm not going to get better.

I had (emphasis on had) a very well-meaning friend who would regularly check in on me. I appreciated her concern. But every single time I had a good day, she would say, "See? You're totally getting better!" I appreciated her optimism, but it became frustrating after a while. Yes, I still have pretty good days, and sometimes even stretches of good weeks. But they always end. I'm not being dramatic —those are the medical facts. My friend's incessant baseless positivity felt after a while like somebody telling their buddy with an amputated arm, See, it looks like it's growing back.

I spent a lot of time trying to be patient with my friend. But the longer it went on, the clearer it became that she was never going to actually hear me. She would make plans to do things I couldn't possibly do anymore, and when I reminded her of my condition she'd say, "But it's a couple months away, you'll be able to by then."

There is no cure for lupus. As far as medical science is concerned, chances are pretty high that I will always have lupus. I might go into remission. I might not get substantially worse. But I am never getting "better."

I know I am sick. Of all the people who are bummed out by my ill health, I guarantee I am the unhappiest with the current state of my body.

I am also the most up to date with current treatment options, clinical trials, lifestyle changes that might help, and general understanding of my disease.

When you insist over and over again that I will get better, you're indirectly telling me that I'm either lying to you about my prognosis or that I'm too stupid to understand my disease and treatment options. Worst of all, you are intimating that I'm not trying hard enough to get better.

If you aren't my doctor or a researcher specializing in autoimmune disease, then please — I appreciate support, but not baseless, grating optimism.

Strangely Interesting

Yesterday, I went to Mass and then spent the rest of the day goofing off. So in all honesty, my brain cells were goofing off as well. Which means today's post has nothing to do with autoimmune disease. Enjoy. Mmmmmm.......cake.........

Melting POP from Alexandre DUBOSC on Vimeo.

Pumpkin Update

BICJ has been happy as a clam what with all the decorating going on around here.

We have leaves and flowers and fake pumpkins everywhere.

This Japanese lantern lighted garland is as old as the hills. I'll miss it when it quits working someday..

And a couple of gravestones thrown in for good measure.

 I've always loved black things at Halloween. Black cats, black crows, and black spiders.

How would you like to sit down to dinner and see this?

I like this guy's red eyes.

Gee. Finally looks like Halloween at our house.

A Primer on How to Care

I found this short video explaining sympathy vs empathy by Dr. Brene Brown to be very well done. As someone dealing with a lifelong chronic disease, I have been blessed to have a group of folks around me that could have written this video content as well; because they truly do understand the difference. But like anyone else, I also have had interactions with well-meaning folks that do not. And that's not a helpful conversation.  After watching this video and reflecting back on MY understanding of empathy, I realized that I've been guilty of saying some of the phrases that are not empathetic as well. What a good mini refresher course on caring.

This from Dr. Brown's website:

Dr. Brené Brown is a research professor at the University of Houston Graduate College of Social Work. She has spent the past thirteen years studying vulnerability, courage, worthiness, and shame.

Check it out:

It's that time of year again.

So as I'm climbing up out of this latest dumb stupid flare, I've spent several days resting. Inside the house. Looking around at the dust and the summer decorations which, if I were functioning a little bit better, would all be packed away in cartons clearly marked "Summer"; and all of my fall and Halloween junk delightful home accessories would be tossed onto windowsills and mantels carefully arranged in a tasteful autumnal manner. But this year, I'm seriously behind schedule. So even though doing anything more than dressing and sliding a panful of raw chicken into the oven makes me break out in a sweat, I've asked John to haul down the fall boxes from the attic. And he did. What a guy.

When he had them all stacked in front of the fireplace, I sat on the couch and wondered what the heck I could be thinking. All of that STUFF? And for what? So I decided that I'd go through the boxes and choose my very favorite things and the rest could just go right back up to the attic. I was proud of myself for making such a logical decision.

Then.

I opened the cartons and began digging through tablecloths, and spiderweb twinkle lights, and door mats, and leaf garlands, and my collection of black kitty cats, and...... oh, no. I heard a voice inside my head that I haven't for awhile.

I'm just going to use everything! Because they're ALL my favorites. And if I want to use them all, I will!

Drat. I realized that my Bratty Inner Child Julia had just re-surfaced from the depths of my subconscious. And I could hear her clearly say,

Nanner. Nanner nanner nanner! I'm going to do what I want to do and you can't stop me. So there. /sticks out tongue/.

I put my head in my hands and realized that BICJ was back and in rare form. Guess it's time to grab the dust cloth and start garland-ing and pumpkin-ing every surface in sight.

I know when to wave the white flag. BICJ wins this round.

I Tend to Slip

Awhile back, I shared this on Facebook:

In response to which reader Shara made this comment:

And if you are Julia, your slip is down around your knees or some other dress malfunction has occurred.

/facepalm/ Busted. Totally busted. She's spot on, Shara is.......which made me recall a post from 2011.

For those that haven't read about my unfortunate track record with certain types of ladies' undergarments, (slips, to be specific), let me refresh your memory:

It's Hopeless 

I've come to a conclusion about myself, and it's this:

I was simply not meant to dress nicely and act in a normal fashion. Ever. I try to act like a well-mannered person, really, I do. But in spite of everything that I do to try to prepare for and minimize the possibility of.....um....embarrassing incidents made in a very public place, they still happen to me. All the time. I've decided that it's just all beyond my control.

Here's how I arrived at this revelation.

So last weekend, Terese and Greg asked John and I to gussy up and be their guests at a dinner honoring them for their work with a Catholic university program. It was a beautiful white linen semi-formal kind of an event and I was determined to do two things:

First - not to wear anything stupid.

Secondly - not to do anything stupid.

In my quest to achieve objective number one, I threw myself into the hands of a salesperson in a reputable dress store in search of a not-stupid looking dress. We settled on a simple and comfortable plum dress, accessorized with a matching necklace and earrings. I agonized over my reflection in the dressing room mirror.

"Honey?" the saleslady peeked through the curtain partition. "I think you should take off those argyle knee high socks. You really can't get the full effect with those things on. Oh, and...." she thrust a hanger into the dressing room on which was a pair of Spanx. You know, the things that they used to call girdles. ".....put this on."

Oh. Um, I don't think that will make much of a difference.

She poked her head into the room and looked sternly at me over the top of her glasses. "Yes. Yes, it will. Trust me."

Fine. I struggled into the stupid thing and had to admit that while it didn't actually give me a waistline, at least it smoothed out some of the largest lumps and bumps.

"What are you wearing for shoes?" She was back.

Oh, I don't know. I think I have some dress shoes at home.

"Well, if you want my advice, since you did ask, this dress simply MUST be worn with black kitten heels."

Kitten heels?

Ah. That's what they call pumps these days.

So Saturday night, I squeezed myself into a stupid pair of pantyhose, then the dumb stupid pair of Spanx, pulled on a slip, then finally my dress. I slipped my feet into my black kitten heels and we were off.

Terese and Greg were impressively honored and made a fabulous speech, John looked dashing in his suit, the dinner was delicious, and to my delight, the white wine which was served didn't make me feel like barfing. Just before the event drew to a close, I was feeling somewhat smug. Even though our dinner table was directly in front of the large crowd, I hadn't goobered, or fallen over, or anything. It was a great evening.

Wow. Could I possibly escape this evening unscathed by doofus-ness?

Then I made the unfortunate decision that it was a good time to head over to the bathroom. I stood in front of the full length mirror in the lady's powder room, and under the influence of three glasses of the aforementioned wine, gee. Suddenly the dress and dumb stupid Spanx didn't look as bad as I thought. Actually, not bad. Not bad at all.

As I sashayed out of the bathroom and headed back to our table, I felt a strange wispy sensation that went down the length of my legs. Hm, I thought. That's odd.

I felt something swish lightly around my ankles, and then...well golly. My feet just weren't walking...right....

Oh. My. Gosh.

I looked down at my fabulous black kitten heels aghast. My dumb stupid half-slip had just SLIPPED IT'S WAY DOWN MY LEGS AND ONTO THE FLOOR.

Yes. I had publicly lost my undergarment in front of several of the priests of our diocese as well as other upstanding Catholic honorees and their families.

I looked at the ground, my feet covered in a puddle of black silk and was momentarily frozen in shock. (I had the surreal thought that it contrasted quite nicely with the cream colored carpet, actually.)

I'm certain that I wasn't the only person shocked. Panic stricken, I looked up at the dinner table next to me directly into the eyes of a very nice looking young man. He threw up his hands over his face.

"I didn't see A THING. NOT. A. THING." he said, looking rather embarrassed yet quite amused.

Blushing furiously, I scooped up my dumb stupid slip from the floor, stuffed it into my purse, and stomped off to our table.

I suppose that anyone else who would have had this incredible misfortune would have probably furtively stowed the slip away and then quietly taken her seat.

Me? Not a chance.

I was so flustered that as I approached Terese, Greg, and our other friends, I grabbed the dumb stupid idiotic slip out of my purse and shook it in their faces. Then boisterously confessed all the while waving the ridiculous dumb stupid chunk of black silk overhead.

It was very subtle. I'm sure that no one noticed.

We all left the event arm-in-arm and laughing like a bunch of kids.

Ahhh. Life is so strange - but good.

U.S. Department of Health and Human Services: Fraud Alert

This was published on the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services blog recently, and I thought it important to share. You can read it online here. 

Fraud Alert: Don’t Be Fooled by Health Care Grant Scams

October 2, 2015

By: Kevin Griffis, HHS Assistant Secretary for Public Affairs

Fraudsters are out there trying to scam Americans, claiming they’re from the Department of Health & Human Services. This recent story from a woman in Philadelphia was typical: She told me that she had received a call from someone who claimed he was with HHS. The caller told her she had been awarded a $2,500 grant, and it was easy to get. All she had to do was send in a few hundred dollars for the application fee, and HHS would send her a check. Thankfully, she didn’t.  Instead, she hung up and reported the call. 

The success of crude scams like these may seem implausible, but given the frequency of phone calls we get, they also must work – at least occasionally. Fraudsters may be asking for money orders or just looking for personal data, like bank accounts. But don’t be fooled. HHS does not ask individuals for money; it definitely doesn’t dole out grant money in exchange for deposits or ask for your banking information.   

Fraudulent calls can be confusing, but you can protect yourself. In addition to protecting your personal financial information, whenever someone contacts you about your health or health coverage, always ask questions and never sign anything that makes you concerned. Keep an eye out for these five red flags:

1. Someone calls to ask for a small fee to obtain a government grant. 

The government does not use direct phone contact to solicit, review or make awards. All grant applications are free to fill out and must be submitted through a government website.

Click here for more information on grant-related scams. You can also report grant-related scam attempts to the Health and Human Services (HHS) Fraud Hotline at 1-800-447-8477 and emailsupport@grants.gov.

2. Someone asks for money to enroll you in Marketplace or “Obamacare” health insurance. 

You can get help with enrolling in a Health Insurance Marketplace plan for free. The Marketplace has a call center that is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You can also find people or organizations near you that can help you enroll in person. Find out more here.

Scammers may also insist that you enroll through the Marketplace even though you have Medicare. Medicare beneficiaries do not need to buy coverage through the Marketplace. In fact, it’s against the lawfor someone who knows you have Medicare to sell you a Marketplace plan.

3. Someone pressures you with visits, mail or email solicitations and phone calls insisting they work for the government.

Always ask for identification if someone visits you in person. Make sure you get his name, who he works for, his telephone number, address, email address and website.

If you apply for coverage, you may get a phone call from the Marketplace asking you to verify or provide more information so we can easily process your application. The representative should give you a first name and an agent ID number. Write those down, and if you don’t feel comfortable answering questions over the phone, ask the caller to mail you a letter with instructions for completing your application.

4. Someone you did not contact asks for your financial or health information.

No one from the government will call you or email you trying to sell you an insurance plan or ask for your financial information like a bank name and account number. Keep information like your credit card number, banking information or Social Security number private and protected. And a Marketplace representative will never need to ask about your personal health information like your medical history or specific treatments. (If you’re applying for certain Marketplace exemptions, you may be asked to provide medical documentation.)

5. Someone directs you to a website without official government seals, logos or website addresses.

The official website of the Marketplace is Healthcare.gov, and you can find all of the information you need there.

The official website to apply for or check the status of a grant application is Grants.gov.

At HHS, we’re working with our partners in the Administration to find and prosecute these criminals, but we need your help to prevent fraud before it strikes.       

We need you and your family to keep a watchful eye. If you think someone is trying to steal your money or your identity, we need you to act so they can’t do the same to your friends or neighbors.

If you think you might have given your information to someone you shouldn’t have, use the Federal Trade Commission’s online Complaint Assistant, and contact your local police department.

If you or someone you know suspects fraud on the Marketplace, you should report it immediately to 1-800-318-2596. TTY users should call 1-855-889-4325.

There will always be scam artists out there trying new ways to trick people into giving up their money or their personal information. With your help, we can take steps to stop them.

Fraud alert! Don’t be fooled by these 5 scams: http://1.usa.gov/1j5HJiT via @HHSgov

Please Don't Watch This John and Greg

So.....I saw this video posted on Facebook yesterday. And I laughed 'till I cried. Not so much because what these two bozo guys did, but the woman's reaction at the end. It reminds me of something that my son and hubby and hubby's best buddy might consider doing. And unfortunately I can see myself in the gal cussing them out. Thank goodness we don't own a leaf blower and a chiminea.

If you can't get the video to play, head over to YouTube to view it there. 

BuzzFeed: 21 Times Mindy Lahari Totally Understood Chronic Illness

Take a look at this by BuzzFeed Community member Lisa Marie Walters: 21 Time Mindy Lahari Totally Understood Chronic Illness. I've pasted just one image from a lengthy list of GIFs, so go here to see the entire piece. Lisa got it right.

11. When you’re prescribed steroids and people try to understand why you gained so much weight.

Your Sunday Dose of Cute

Courtesy of Cute Overload. A SNORING BABY HUMMINGBIRD. Good grief in a bucket.

When Did Fall Arrive?

I guess it's only logical that by October it would start to look and feel autumn-ish. It seems to me that just a few days ago, it was summer. And now it's not:

SSF Partners with Dental Lifeline Network

The September 2015 issue of The Moisture Seekers newsletter from the Sjogren's Syndrome Foundation contains potentially valuable information for those that are unable to afford dental treatment:

Low-Income Sjogren's Patients May Qualify For Free Dental Treatment 

Dry Mouth in Sjogren's patients causes a decrease in both the amount ad quality of saliva, which ultimately results in tooth decay. Patients often experience substantial dental bills that are not considered part of major medical insurance. While the SSF continues to advocate on Capital Hill for better health coverage for Sjogren's patients, we are now partnering with Dental Lifeline Network to provide an option for patients with limited financial income. 

Sjogren's patients who have limited financial resources may be eligible for free, comprehensive dental treatment through Donated Dental Services (DDS), a program operated by Dental Lifeline Network. 

Who Qualifies? 

Through its 15,000 volunteer dentists and 3,800 volunteer dental labs nationwide, DDS offers comprehensive dental care to people who lack financial resources or access to dental care and:

• Are age 65 and older or

• Have permanent disabilities or

• Are medically fragile: require surgery or medical treatment but cannot qualify for what they need until their dental needs have been met (due to the risk of infection from their dental disease). (Medically fragile patients include people in need of cardiac surgery, chemotherapy, organ transplants and joint replacements. Although Medicare may cover their medical needs, it does not cover the pre-requisite dental care. Medicaid coverage for adults dental treatment in most states is also very limited.)

• DDS is designed for people who need comprehensive dental care. Routine care is not a component of the program. 

To qualify for the DDS program, applicants first must exhaust Medicaid, dental benefits they may have through the Veterans Administration, or any other dental coverage for which they are eligible. SSF members can continue reading here. 

To find out more about this DDS program and to find availability of volunteer dentists in your state, visit www.DentalLifeline.org, and click on Our State Programs.

Enjoy These While i'm Sleeping