Cindy A. Christiansen's Blog, page 8

I Do NOT Have OCD! (Well, maybe just a little.)

I am not obsessive compulsive! The Mayo Clinic defines obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) as being characterized by unreasonable thoughts and fears (obsessions) that lead you to do repetitive behaviors (compulsions). That's not me.

I don't have a fear of man hole covers. (Maybe a little bit of fear of those steel plates they put on the road to cover holes they've dug.) And, I don't think my thoughts are unreasonable. What would it hurt the Department of Transportation (DOT) to instruct all road works to replace the man hole covers so the painted stripe matches up? That isn't unreasonable, is it?


I can't help it if seeing the line not match up drives me crazy! That doesn't mean I'm obsessive compulsive. So, I am compelled to call DOT to do something about it. I haven't gotten through...so far. So I've thought about carrying a crowbar to move them and straighten those lines. I haven't...yet. I do have some control.

So I can't stand the television volume on an odd number. That doesn't make me OCD either. Even numbers sound better. There must be a study that proves my point.

Ever see a row of vending machines and the coin slots are all turned different? Just because I have to have them all facing the same direction doesn't mean I'm compulsive. I'm not afraid of them. I don't obsess about them after I straighten them and leave the store.

In my book, Time Will Tell, the heroine has a little OCD going on. I actually used a little personal experience to write that scene. Holly's Uncle Kipp is a hoarder and she is there to help him after he falls and gets hurt in all the clutter. Here's a little excerpt:


Holly ground her teeth and growled under her breath. So many unanswered questions, so much mess. How could she think in all this disorder? She knew she had issues. She admitted she liked things methodically laid out. Even a sane person would be bothered by all this clutter. She loaded up another box of trash, feeling her anxiety crawling out to the ends of her hair.

A memory flashed in her mind of the last time she’d felt this horrible. So she’d snuck a hammer into her doctor’s office waiting room to reposition the paintings that were unevenly hung. What had been the harm in that? She’d told the nurse she had no intention of using the hammer to kill Dr. Bailey. They’d totally blown the whole situation out of perspective. A restraining order had been a bit much.
Okay, I didn't take a hammer into my doctor's office. But, I did reposition all the paintings in the waiting room so they were uniform while no one was looking. I just have an artistic eye.
All right! What little thing annoys you? You aren't admitting to OCD. You just have your likes and dislikes. I want to hear from you.


Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs!Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com
Copyright of dog on street: jkraft5 / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

I Am Not OCD! (Well, maybe just a little.)

I am not obsessive compulsive! The Mayo Clinic defines obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) as being characterized by unreasonable thoughts and fears (obsessions) that lead you to do repetitive behaviors (compulsions).

I don't have a fear of man hole covers. (Maybe a little bit of fear of those steel plates they put on the road to cover holes they've dug.) And, I don't think my thoughts are unreasonable. What would it hurt the Department of Transportation (DOT) to instruct all road works to replace the man hole covers so the painted stripe matches up? That isn't unreasonable, is it?


I can't help it if seeing the line not match up drives me crazy! That doesn't mean I'm obsessive compulsive. So, I am compelled to call DOT to do something about it. I haven't gotten through...so far. So I've thought about carrying a crowbar to move them and straighten those lines. I haven't...yet. I do have some control.

So I can't stand the television volume on an odd number. That doesn't make me OCD either. Even numbers sound better. There must be a study that proves my point.

Ever see a row of vending machines and the coin slots are all turned different? Just because I have to have them all facing the same direction doesn't mean I'm compulsive. I'm not afraid of them. I don't obsess about them after I straighten them and leave the store.

In my book, Time Will Tell, the heroine has a little OCD going on. I actually used a little personal experience to write that scene. Holly's Uncle Kipp is a hoarder and she is there to help him after he falls and gets hurt in all the clutter. Here's a little excerpt:

Holly ground her teeth and growled under her breath. So many unanswered questions, so much mess. How could she think in all this disorder? She knew she had issues. She admitted she liked things methodically laid out. Even a sane person would be bothered by all this clutter. She loaded up another box of trash, feeling her anxiety crawling out to the ends of her hair.
A memory flashed in her mind of the last time she’d felt this horrible. So she’d snuck a hammer into her doctor’s office waiting room to reposition the paintings that were unevenly hung. What had been the harm in that? She’d told the nurse she had no intention of using the hammer to kill Dr. Bailey. They’d totally blown the whole situation out of perspective. A restraining order had been a bit much.
Okay, I didn't take a hammer into my doctor's office. But, I did reposition all the paintings in the waiting room so they were uniform while no one was looking. I just have an artistic eye.
All right! What little thing annoys you? You aren't admitting to OCD. You just have your likes and dislikes. I want to hear from you.


Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs!Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com
Copyright of dog on street: jkraft5 / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Frumpy Shoes

I WISH!Yeah! I really dislike this time of year. The earth warms up. Coats come off. Sweaters come off. Capris come out. Sleeves shorten. And, the dreaded shoes get skimpier…sandals, flip flops, etc.

Except for me. I’ve been wearing “old lady” shoes most of my life. This is due to:
BursitisFlexible archesCalcium build up in Achilles’ TendonsBone spursPlantar FasciitisAbnormal Swelling of Plantar Fasciitis (3 times its size)FibromyalgiaCFIDSMS

I’m grateful I can walk! I really am. I’m grateful for shoes that support my feet that allow me to walk. However, there is something about spring and summer when everyone else is wearing pretty sandals that makes me feel dowdy. I want to wear capris, but I feel like a frump in my big bulky “old lady” shoes. White, black or neon colored, I just don’t feel it looks pretty.
Yes, I see women who do it. Do I judge them? No. I just don’t want to be one of them, especially not these past thirty years. So, if you see me out teaching a writing class or doing a book signing, please don't look down at my shoes.
And, just forget high-heeled shoes! They would kill me! Can't do it; no way!
I’m always seeing posts about how much women love shoes and shoe shopping. Ugh! I can’t even switch shoes without being in pain. I wear the same pair all of the time, or I can’t walk for days.
Be grateful if you can enjoy those lovely summer sandals, and I’ll continue to be thankful I can walk in my frumpy shoes, although slightly disappointed every spring BOGO shoe event!
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs!Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.comCopyright of woman with dog: fotomircea / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Weekend Fun Post: Dogs and Dreams

I know, at times, we all have felt like the Husky pup below when trying to learn something new.

Tasks may seem daunting at first. We want what's at the end, but we can't bring ourselves to take the risk or make the effort. Then, we might give up and turn our backs on the problem. 
However, perseverance is the key.
Never give up.
Live your dreams.
And, have a wonderful weekend!


Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs!
Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com 
Copyright of dog sleeping: damedeeso / 123RF Stock PhotoCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Cindy A. Christiansen: Nothing’s Ever Black and White

My autistic son, Sparky, at the age of fourteen, had a melt-down and smacked the back of his head on his headboard. Of course, there were tears and snot and smacking himself in the head with his hands. What else is new? Oh, yeah. He said he could only see black and white out of his left eye.
I scoffed. Right. What was he up to this time?

To prove my point, I took him to the doctor. I smiled as we went into the exam room. Black and white. Sparky was so full of it. Just another excuse to get out of school.

The doctor came in, questioned us and started the exam. I was still smiling. Just wait until he tells Sparky that there’s nothing wrong, and he’s totally fit to go to school.

“Yes, I can see it,” the doctor said. “There’s mild damage to the optic nerve.”

Shocked, I inhaled, and my smile pulled into a frown. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Could it cause him to see black and white?”

The doctor nodded. “It could.”

“I told you, Mom,” Sparky yelled, pumping both fits in the air.

Dang! My shoulders sagged. Why is it I can never win with him? Anytime I’ve ever tried to prove my point, that sweet little kid comes out smelling like a rose.

He is now twenty-two and will come to me and say, “My eye hurts. I’m seeing black and white in my left eye today, Ma.”

And I say, “Okay, Sparky. I believe you.”



Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com
Dog image copyright: hannamariah / 123RF Stock Photo
For more information on vision and head injuries, see: http://www.everydayhealth.com/vision-center/head-injuries.aspxCindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Weekend Fun Blog: Spring Has Sprung!

Spring has officially sprung! Never mind we had snow this week in Utah and have two more storms scheduled. Let's throw those winter blues behind us and enjoy a little fun by the pool!


Which is your favorite dog clip in the video?
Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! 

Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com 



Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

A Medical Ordeal for My Autistic Son

My youngest son got sick just after Halloween. We thought it was a flu bug. He missed school and work a few days, went back for a few days, and then got seriously sick again. The cycle kept repeating. Severe abdominal pain started.
During Christmas break, he got worse. He started throwing up blood and passing blood in his stool. We needed to change doctors because the one my son was seeing wasn’t covered by our insurance. We took him to a new primary doctor (PC) recommended by our insurance as knowledge about mental disabilities. His first comment was that he was just a general practitioner with little expertise in the subject.
Trying to find a doctor who sees adults with mental disabilities is practically impossible in this state unless you are on Medicaid. The PC doctor found out my son’s blood work was a mess. He had a dangerously low sodium level, blood sugars were sky high and dehydration was concerning, along with other abnormal blood levels. The doctor suggested it was from the medications he took for autism and anxiety disorder. He wanted to take him off them, even saying they might be able to reverse the “damage” that had been done. Talk about upsetting. But, something told me this wasn’t the case.
The doctor referred him to a gastroenterologist, and he did a colonoscopy and upper GI. They found ulcers in his esophagus, but nothing that could account for the stomach pain and illness. His symptoms continued, and we found he had a rash on his back. It had been there some time, but my son hadn’t said anything to us or the doctors. We returned to the PC doctor. He put him on short-term insulin and started pulling him off his autism meds. He didn’t know what the rash was and suggested it was dry skin. I was frantic.
My son’s sugars went even higher; his sodium lower.  He couldn’t make it through a day of school. He was so fatigued and weak. The rash started to spread…and itch.
One day, when I picked him up from school because he was so ill, I felt prompted to take him to a neighbor who was a nurse. I drove straight to her house without calling. I knew her but not well. She opened her door and her arms to us. She listened to his stomach and said it was distended. She rubbed Calamine lotion on his rash. She gave him homemade jerky for the sodium. And most importantly, she suggested I get a medication review from a pharmacist. I did just that.
I went to a pharmacist I’ve known for many years. He reviewed my son’s medication list and said that two of his meds had a less-than one percent chance of causing him the problem. He also told me that with his primary diagnosis being anxiety disorder, he was only on a short-acting anxiety med. I was shocked. He spent over an hour with me discussing the best plan. He felt that we should go back to my son’s previous doctor no matter what it took.
That’s exactly what we did, and our insurance agreed. They approved a number of visits at in-network cost, but it took time. My son got very ill again. We took him to urgent care. The doctor did blood work and said he would call me at 1:30 the next day. I waited…and waited. By three o’clock, I called the office. Both him and his nurse had left at lunch-time for the day. Grrrr. (This was the second time he didn’t call as he said he would.)
My son ended up in the emergency room (ER) that night, needing IV fluids from severe dehydration. Like the PC doctor, the ER doctor didn’t know what was wrong. They both said they had never seen a rash like my son’s and to go to a dermatologist. After showing him the reports from the gastroenterologist, he came back six hours later and suggested we get a colonoscopy for my son. Hello? Been there, done that and told you already.
The only thing he prescribed was pain medication, and it was for a medication I had told them my son was allergic to. I repeated the names of the two medications my son is allergic to. The nurse replied, “Oh, there’s a lot of other things the doctor can prescribe.” He came back with a prescription for the other medication he was allergic to. I really had to hold my tongue at this point.
After that, my son ended up on home/hospital from school for a month. He had already stopped work. He didn’t get better. The dermatologist couldn’t identify the rash and did a biopsy that took two weeks to get the results.
One night, my son called me in the middle of the night. He was in his room in so much back pain he couldn’t yell or get out of bed. He was in tears and sobbing. I couldn’t understand a word he said. These periods of pain continued.
If you didn’t know, my son is autistic. He has difficulty expressing himself, doesn’t complain and has social phobia. Trying to get him to say what was wrong was like pulling teeth. Every doctor visit, I prompted him to express how he felt to the doctor and why. He’d walk in, close his eyes, and not say a word. He later told me his brain shuts down when he is experiencing anxiety. This worries me. What if I am not there to help him with situations like this?
Anyway, we finally got to see his previous PC doctor. He agreed with the pharmacist.  We put him back on his full doses of autism and anxiety medications. The doctor said the diabetes program the other doctor had him doing was having no affect. It was like a dog chasing his tail, going nowhere. He changed things up and got him started on the right road. However, he didn’t have time to discuss the pain or the rash.
By the time we went to the dermatologist for the results of the rash, my son was in so much pain he couldn’t sit down. He looked at the lump on my son’s back and put him on four months of antibiotics. The results of the rash were inconclusive, and the doctor is still trying to figure it out.
My son ended up in the ER again with severe pain he said was in his back, stomach and head. It turned out he had a pilonidal cyst at the base of his spine that had abscessed. The ER doctor lanced, drained and packed it and put him on a five-day course of antibiotics. He said the other antibiotic was the wrong one.
These events took place over the last four months!  No, I didn’t make a mistake. Four months! My son is slowing starting to improve. He is gradually coming off all the diabetes medications and pain medication. His PC doctor said it might take another twelve weeks for him to fully recover.
This has been a huge lesson about the incompetence of people in the medical field, how you have to fight for decent care, and also how serious anxiety disorders and other mental disabilities can affect your care. Not to be a downer, but unless huge things happen with the medical industry and unless more education and support are given to those with disabilities, this country is going to be in serious trouble. I fear for my children and their future.  Actually, all of us.
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com Photo copyright: www.123rf.com 



Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

High Hopes

Laverne and Shirley is an American sitcom that ran on ABC from January 27, 1976, to May 10, 1983. It starred Penny Marshall as Laverne De Fazio and Cindy Williams as Shirley Feeney. They were best friends, single and roommates who worked as bottlecappers in a fictitious Milwaukee brewery called Shotz Brewery in the 1950s. They coped with disappointing dates, nerdy neighbors, and disappointed dreams.

What I liked about the show was Laverne and Shirley were always there for each other whether they agreed with their friends' choices or not. I loved when one of them would go through a difficult time and the other would start singing the song High Hopes to encourage the other to live their dream. 



That's what so surprised me when I was reading a book titled, "The Art of Getting Well" by David Spero. He talks about a lesson he learned from an adopted plant--a rubber tree plant.
It had grown up in a dim corner so that it had grown twisted from trying to reach sunlight. It became so crocked, it kept toppling over. Fighting gravity left it infected with fungi and mold. David took it to a nursery for diagnosis and they told him to throw it away.
Diagnosed with MS and scoliosis, David could somehow relate to the twisted bends of the sickly plant, so he took it home and stripped it of all leaves except one. He washed it down with an anti-fungal liquid, placed it in a lighted spot and supported its curvy trunk.
For the first time, it had support...and love. Within three weeks it had big beautiful leaves.
Couldn't we all use a little support? Don't we all need a Laverne or Shirley to sing us High Hopes ? I hope you have someone in your life that brightens your day.  If not, what are you doing to support yourself? Consider changes, big or small, that will bring you happiness and closer to your dreams.   

Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs!
Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com 

Dog with Rubber Tree Copyright: isselee / 123RF Stock Photo
Book: The Art of Getting Well: A Five-step Plan for Maximizing Health When You Have a Chronic Illness by David Spero, R.N.Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

My Dad and Albumin Blood Poisoning

  DaneIn about 1938, when my dad was in the seventh grade, around 12-13 years old, he got very ill. He was told it was albumin blood poisoning. I have been unsuccessful at researching this illness for the term is not used today. Also, I have been unable to match an illness with the symptoms he told me he suffered. However, I did record what he told me.
His illness had to do with the kidneys, and he had great difficulty urinating. His right arm and left leg were paralyzed. He had no idea how he contracted the illness, only that one other girl in the small town of Redmond, Utah, had it, and she was ten years older than him.
The town had no doctor and depended on travelling doctors who made house calls. There were two who treated my dad and the other ill girl, and they had differing opinions about how they should be treated. One doctor said they should have spices, the other said no sugar. The two finally decided to treat each child differently. The girl couldn’t have sugar, and my dad couldn't have spices.
Dad was sick in bed for around eight months. His sister, Maxine, brought his school work home to him each day, and he had to lie in bed to do it. He was not allowed to sit up, get out of bed or leave the house. Frustrated by being bed-ridden, my dad threw a ball against the wall with his left hand, driving his mother crazy.
His father stayed up with him many nights, watching over him. By the end of eight months, the doctors had given up hope for both children. My dad was severely ill—unconscious with a fever. His father was certain he would die. He was inspired to take a silver ladle full of cream and pour it down my dad.
The cream made Dad horribly sick. He vomited and poured diarrhea. He finally urinated a black tarry substance. Later that night, his fever broke. The doctors were informed and the treatment prescribed for the girl. She survived too. Dad's paralysis eventually went away.
On one fine summer day, my dad was finally allowed to sit up and then go outside. The doctor told his mother not to let him get wet or chilled. My dad was so happy to see the sky, the trees, the birds, the whole of outdoors that he went out, leaned over the bridge, got dizzy and fell in the spring ditch. We are so much alike.
My dad was a wonderful, honorable man who loved the land and respected it. His life was filled with illness, much like mine. He served in World War II in the Navy and contracted an illness over in the Islands that doctors could never diagnose. It never stopped him from raising a family, running a farm, becoming an electrician and holding a job. I will forever admire and respect him. I only hope to handle my life of ill health with as much dignity as he demonstrated.
Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs! Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com Photo is copyright protected by Cindy A. Christiansen


Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author

Ring in the New Year with Hope!

Hope is our emotional engine, the basis for engaging with life. It is our perception of possibilities. It is not the same as happiness or optimism. It is what we feel when we think that life is worth living. Happiness and optimism cannot exist without hope, but hope can exist without happiness or optimism. This is because we can fake optimism and pretend to be happy, but we know deep, down inside whether or not we have hope.
Believe it or not, doctors and therapists have actually said to me, my husband and children: Why do you stay together? The answer to that is because we all have hope—hope that things will improve, and life, health, and relationships will improve. And because life is ever-changing, and we have continually had hope, our lives have improved. The key is never to give up that hope and to remember if one door closes you can always hope another will open. You don’t have to keep the same hopes. Shift your hope to something new.
When I first got diagnosed with an auto-immune illness, I hoped to find a cure. That was thirty years ago. Through the years, my hopes have changed, but I have never given up hope. My current hope is to live a quality life and give others hope.
When I think of hope, I am reminded of a M*A*S*H episode with Coronel Potter. A wounded soldier, Saunders, wants to kill himself and Potter pleads and prevents Saunders multiple times from taking the easy way out. Finally, Potter gives him a dose of reverse psychology by holding the gas mask over his face. Saunders fights back. His desire to live is greater than his desire to die. That’s hope.
However, when we lose hope it can be hard to find motivation again. Therefore, we should continually keep it in mind each day by:Conducting a hope audit by thinking of all the positive things in your life.Reducing stress with meditation, breathing exercises, physical exercise, or relaxation techniques.Creating hopeful relationships with people who have a positive, hopeful attitude.Helping others see the best in themselves.The most important impact we have on each other is through how we affect each other’s hopes. When hope exists we give more of ourselves to what we do and so does everyone else around us. Hope is not phony and is grounded in reality with real problems such as quality of life, the development of human potential, and the wellbeing of our environment and all human living systems. Living a hopeful life is to recognize that everything and everyone matters.

Hope is energy – your positive energy, your talents, value and your soul. It is the lifeblood of the human race and needs to be treasured. Start the new year with hope and everything else will fall into place!

Wishing you joy, health and happiness in the new year!

Cindy

Cindy A. ChristiansenSweet Romance, Humor, Suspense...and Dogs!Fly into a good book at: http://www.dragonflyromance.com 
Copyright: / 123RF Stock PhotoExcerpts about hope taken from an article at:  http://www.lifehack.org/articles/lifestyle/how-to-create-a-more-hopeful-life.html

Cindy A. Christiansen
Sweet (clean) Romance Author