Heidi in Real Life

My girlfriend shared with me a comparison she recently read of, that likened the Mammogram Experience to running your boob over with a car.    Although I imagine people do have some discomfort, today, after my second-annual “Breast sandwiching,” I still feel fine.   Today, the first attendant I met led me to a changing room. He went in one room, “Looks like we’re out of gowns,” he said.   He went in another room, “We’re out here too.” I started to wonder how prepared they were for incoming patients, when, “Here we go.” I closed the door and lifted the gown to put it on. It was the largest, most humongous, mongo-spacious gown I’d ever  seen. I could fit my entire family in it…after a Thanksgiving dinner. They weren’t out of gowns in those other rooms; they were out of size “Elephant” gowns. My well-meaning attendant had done his best to be discreet, but the proof of his opinion of my size versus their standard garments was the flowing, flowered te...

When I’m on food restriction, food is all I can think about. Now I’m counting calories, sadly chomping vegetables I do not like, and guarding my stash of “allowable food items” like a lioness hoards her kill. “Back off!” I hiss; yellow eyes burning. My stomach was making angry-volcano rumblings last night. “Feed me!” it roared, as Audrey II in “Little Shop of Horrors.” I sat straight up in bed —I can have air popcorn! The moment the dry, fluffy, puffy stuff came tumbling out of the popper, I grabbed a fist -full and pushed it in my mouth frantically. And I bit own my finger…hard. As my finger throbbed, and I felt faint from the pain—a couple of thoughts stood out: That I have the jaws of a Kodiak bear Air popcorn tastes like electricity There really should be a sleep-over camp for people just starting a diet.  A get-away from temptation.  Or maybe a hotel called “The ‘No-More’ Suites” : There, hungry, grumpy people could be housed until Day 4, when th...

While in a dimly-lit parking lot the other night, my daughter Krista screams, “Mom, it’s a Porcupine!!” We drove over to get a closer look. Porcupines are not uncommon in our part of Wisconsin (although I’ve never seen one out in the winter). “No, it’s just a dirty little snow-pile off someone’s car,” I said, amused. Snow Porcupines may not be the exact technical term for those “Dirty Packages” of snow that accumulate right behind your tires and are EVERYWHERE now. Following a cruel cold, the slightly warmer temperatures create a short Snow Porcupine season, when every car and truck has multiple “creatures” to drop. Driving is hazardous as cars embarrassingly and unexpectedly release their animals in streets and on highways. They come in two species: “Mushy” Snow Porcupines – which cause your car to skid, but then might be crushed flat, or... “Rock” Snow Porcupines –Essentially solid ice and will mess you and your car’s suspension up . They can ricochet of...

I 'm getting ready for the ball--the exercise ball.  I'm trying to burn a few extra calories in my sedentary life. Sitting on an Exer-Ball at my desk will accomplish this goal while I do my work.   Right? Of the many things heavy people have to consider: How wide are the dining booths at the restaurant--do I need a table? Is the toilet seat screwed on tightly so it doesn't shift when I sit on it? I add to this list: Is my Exer-ball plug secure? The pressure required to pop the plug, I'm quite certain, must be equal to my weight times the force it's exerting on the ball's now straining weak spots.  A story problem from Hell.   H x F = Ker-plow! I will tape the plug with duct tape, just for some reassurance.  I will likely hear if a problem starts--the ripping of the tape perhaps, or some sideways hiss.  I'm starting to wish it had a handle like a Hippitty-Hop, for something to hold onto to if it starts to...

Chapter 1: Black Friday Purchase Inflatable-Illuminated (6-foot) Santa was purchased flat, boxed and hopeful. Included are two guide wires and light bulb and a magic inflation pump. Santa filled quickly and stood erect and happy with his one “mittened” hand waving and the other hand at his side, standing guard outside our window, facing out—a seasonal sentry, bidding glad tidings to passers by. “Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer.” (Fa-who-Foraze) Chapter 2: Rockin’ Around the Barberry Bushes Inflatable-Illuminated Santa sways back and forth in the wind, sideways and across, danci ng to an unheard song. Santa does not stand tall anymore, but manages to look jolly. Even with the two guide wires, two rigged guide wires tied to water-filled milk cartons, and Santa himself propped against a half-buried shovel, he can not stand upright. Possibly the anticipation of Christmas Morn is too much for the eager, plastic elf; his enthusiastic dirty dance shameful to th...

Just the idea of a juicy, succulent, roast turkey on Thanksgiving afternoon makes me want to get up and dance. Roast turkey is on my “Top 20 List of Happy Things.” Prior to its entrance into my oven, however, and subsequent applause-worthy exit; all dressed up and tan, the necessary steps to achieve true turkey perfection are the cause of many a turkey-related case of hives. I’m not very adventurous anymore on Thanksgiving. I choose my holiday “standard” so I don’t have to deal with a NEW bird and have something go miserably wrong. I want my enormous breasted Butterball in his plain, white plastic coat. I don’t care how he got so big either . The first of many “Turkey-Go-Wrong” years began when, once, my Mom cooked a turkey in a Nesco in our garage.  What we ate that night not only smelled like car  and grass clippings, but somehow the turkey exploded, leaving only a bony pile.  Another year I bought a less expensive, generic brand of turkey. I prepared him as I...

My fri end and I usually take turns sitting with each others dogs when we go on vacations. Bear is Jasmine’s BFF.    Once, when caring for my dog, my friend taught her to “drop” and give up her “booty” Now--no matter where she is, or what’s in h er mouth, if you even whisper the word, “Drop,” Jasmine opens her mouth, spits it out imm ediately, looks at you and says: “There---it’s OUT. Happy?” I am not skilled enough to teach Bear tricks, but last spring, when we had her for a week, I documented her diary: Bear's Sp ring Break:   Vegas this Ain't Hello Family! Having a great time—wish you were here! No-really, I wish you we re here. Although Jasmine’s family is providing a fun-filled vacation for me complete with DELICIOUS PUPPY FOOD (which is WAY better than that “Club” Lamb and Rice crap you buy me, FYI), and entertainment in the form of a constantly “up”, hyper dog who, in my opinion needs to be MEDICA TED, I miss you. Bringi...