Christmas Treasured Memories


These, among others, are the greatest presents I ever received as a young child:

Thumbelina (I adored this doll – the doll that had the thumb permanently in her mouth).  Doesn’t sound the greatest, however, she was the greatest doll to me.

Etch-A-Sketch – this to me was the invention of all inventions.  I drew lines on this flat screen for hours – it was amazing.

64 Crayola Crayons – a necessity for any child, and I absolutely adored mine

Easy Bake Oven – I dislike cooking, even to this day, but I loved my Easy Bake just for the fact that I could create cookies that were never fully cooked, yet still tasted fantastic.

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Memorable not so memorable gifts

Hot wax removal system thingy – this apparatus was absolute torture.  When I applied the wax to my legs and tore the strip off; I am positive you could hear me scream clear across the city!  This was painful stuff.  I forgot the product name, as it went into the dumpster the next day.  As for my legs, the hair was removed alright, as well as any possible hair follicles underneath and I didn’t have to shave for long after.  Thanks, Aunt Sandy.

The Clapper Clap-On Clap-Off – This gadget uses a sound-activated switch sensitive to hand clapping to turn on/off such things advertised as: lamps, radio etc. (up to two appliances that are plugged into it).  Too much clapping for me; felt as if I was at a concert.  Thanks, but I forgot who gave this to me.

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Written by: Deb

Here we go with the New Year’s Resolution thing again.  I didn’t make one as I generally only seem to keep it for less than 2 weeks.  I describe my protest of New Year’s Resolutions, the reason being is I, along with 88% of the world, also don’t end up keeping them past March. I recollect one year that I did make it to late February on a daily diet consisting of skinless chicken breast, grapefruit and unlimited water and 3 daily workouts per week.  I shed the pounds, however, gained it back faster than I lost it.

On four occasions I have gone the fitness club route – all I have quit and lost money.

The last club I joined, caught my attention with an advertisement “Join 4 months for $1.00.”  Who wouldn’t sign up?  Was this too good to be true….yes, as it turned out, it was.

I made an appointment; meeting the sales rep/personal trainer/receptionist who gave me the club tour (I think her main job was more the sales rep dressed in work-out fatigue).  She talked extremely fast, and showed me the club just as fast, with me having a work-out just touring the club!  Next came the all out sales pitch.  I asked about the “4 mos/$1.00” deal – “works out in the end for the annual fee, (she was bubbly), but doesn’t include towel service”, she stated.  Towel service?  I always bring my own towels anyways?  I was then presented with a long, legal sized 3 sheet document written in 6 font.  Lots of “I” this and that.  But all in all it was a decent price, I could afford it and I signed on the dotted line.

I was bound and determined to make a go of this.  At least 3 times per week I promised myself; no less, no excuses, aqua fit and floor apparatus with each visit.  Commitment.

After about a month, what began as 3X per week, sort of dwindled to 2, then 1.  Every excuse I could think of for myself; library to pick up books, going out to dinner (should have been working out-not eating), too damn tired, groceries, Wal-Mart before it gets busy, etc. etc.  Flimsy stuff; easy to think of excuses.

Not to make excuses, but the club was a little shy of the number of treadmills and other equipment causing wait times.  I am impatient to say the least, and sometimes just headed out the door home.  The first time on the treadmill (I’m sure others can relate to this), I stupidly stood on the belt, so when the machine started, I darn near went flying.  Thank goodness I was holding onto the metal side bars, as that would have been a sight.  Red faced and attempting to appear it an equipment malfunction, I did it right the next time ultimately becoming a pro after that.  I never enjoyed the huffing and puffing and that was only in the walking position on these machines; comparing to the more fit ladies next to me who were jogging, no huffing/puffing and staring at the TV above at the same time.  A wonderment at best with this coordination.

The aqua fit I really did enjoy, as being wet in the winter time was a turn-off.  Another flimsy excuse.

I never lost any weight or inches, and somewhat embarrassed when out of curiosity the sales rep/trainer did a 6 week follow-up of my progress.  Progress?  My numbers were worse than when I started!  Humpty Dumpty potato chips along the way didn’t help I guess!

I eventually quit and once again – more money went down the drain.

So this year, I am going to tough it out on my own; eating the celery and carrot sticks at my desk, soup or salad for lunch, and god knows what for supper.  I’ll just do my best and aim for a regimen of walking the dog more often, and parking further from the mall doors when I go shopping.  What’s a gal to do?  No excuses.

Is your doctor always running late? Does 10:15 become 11:15?

Doctor’s appointments, do you really ever get in @10:15?

I doubt it. Success in seeing your doctor at the scheduled appointment time is like a crap shoot, and typically not my luck. I’m forever on time, I don’t know why she never is and I keep forgetting to bring my camping gear to set up for the day.

You recognize a dilemma when the receptionist slides the plexiglass window and smiles, “Hi Deb, she’s a little backed up this morning, we’ll call you soon”. ‘Backed up a bit, call you soon?’ “Backed up” in my experience translates to at least a minimum of 1 hour or more.

I detest these ‘backed up’ doctors, people are trapped in the waiting room fearful to leave for even a snack or pee break in the event your name is called. I think to myself, “Why did I take all morning off work, run like an idiot for the bus, not grab a coffee or something to read on the way, all so I wouldn’t be late for this appointment. Why do they book every 15 minutes, when they’re never on time?

After you have called everyone you can think of (most are at work or waiting at their doctor’s office), play scrabble or crossword on your phone or delete old contacts and your cell is frantic for a charge…your name is called. Yippeee! Now you are escorted into a smaller waiting room to wait and wait and wait some more!

~~~ Article written & copyrighted © by Deb McCarthy

‘Thunderclap Headaches’ update: why I was rushed to emergency

My post this week, “Thunderclap Headaches” ~ Probably the worst headache of your life, was emergency worthy and I was instructed to have it checked out immediately.  The ER doc appeared in snooze mode, however, did order a CT scan which showed no abnormalities, but said an MRI takes a closer look, arranged for an appointment; saying that someone will advise me of a date.

Well, today I received my appointment letter for the MRI, and the date is May 29, 2016 @ 8:50 p.m. but they “will attempt to inform me if that date will be changed or cancelled”. BTW, this is the earliest appointment I could get.  Imagine if I didn’t go to Emergency!

I see my neurologist in a few days, I’ll see what he has to say.


For this article, I am skipping the sombre side of being fat, and examine dieting…yes, dieting that forever kept me fatter.  Some diets melt the pounds off rapidly, so you begin to appear curvy, fitting into smaller sizes, receive compliments, then, boom.  Gradually your new clothes are beginning the feel snug, the compliments are drying up and so are the jaunts to the gym.  You’ve grown tired of chicken breast and salads every day, even your treadmill at home is now stockpiling clothes.

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Doctor’s appointments, do you really ever get in @10:15?

I doubt it.  Success in seeing your doctor at the scheduled appointment time is like a crap shoot, and typically not my luck.  I’m forever on time, I don’t know why, she never is and I keep forgetting to bring my camping gear to set up for the day.

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Robin Williams death: Are comedians more prone to depression?

I’ve often asked myself that question, and with the death of other comedians who also struggled with depression, could this be true?  I found this article today on News (Health), addressing this mental health issue.

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After my diagnosis:  Anorexia, it was mandatory to attend four (2 hr.) Psych Eating Disorder groups to proceed with the program. The first group was a disaster.

Eight people were seated in a circle. (This was the group?  All young girls?).  First off, no one except me was over 20 and here I am in my late 50’s’; I felt awkward to say the least, also, each one was ‘pencil thin’.  Me, the fattest (140 lbs.), and sensing everyone thinking, “why is she here?”

I recognize this is an ED group, and do recall the intake interview phrase “you don’t have to look anorexic to have anorexia” however, it made it unpleasant.  I just couldn’t concentrate on the group’s subject: nutrition.

At break time, I conveyed my feelings to the group leader who said she would try and place me in another four week group with people around my own age.  I chose not to remain for the next hour and went home.

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Aaaaahhhh… Nothing like a Massage….


Just arrived home from my monthly massage.  I discovered this Registered Massage Therapy in the shopping plaza not far from home, and it has been a lucky find indeed; a place within walking distance and not have to take the bus.

Don’t know if anyone has ever had one – it feels immensely relaxing.

I would only consent to a female massage therapist, as I would not feel at ease or would allow a male therapist.  On one occurrence, I called this salon and the therapist’s name was ‘Robyn’, so I assumed a woman.  Upon arriving, a tall male came to greet me; I was shocked and disappointed and hastily said, “sorry” and left.

Hoisting myself onto the massage table was complex, and I first felt awkward and virtually comical attempting to lay face down thus grabbing the top sheet and light blanket to cover me.  Struggling with the sheet, I darn near tumbled off of the table.  I’m not graceful at the best of times, but then maybe others experience the exact problem.  Most uncomfortable is laying face down, initially trying to adjust the pillow under the boobs, ultimately ending up with them pancake flat.  The head is placed in a donut shaped metal piece which is covered with padding, and face poking through.  I find after time spent in the face down position for ½ the session, my sinuses will have drained.

Adapting to someone working on your naked body takes time, and for me, I prefer to leave my undies on.  It’s just a personal choice.

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