I have a meeting with my boss’s boss

Depending on when you read this, it might be tomorrow, or it might be today – or it might have already gone down.

For the past several weeks, a dialogue about racism in our society has been brought to the forefront in our nation, states, cities, neighborhoods and workplaces. For me, this dialogue had only extended to informal conversations with my friends and family. But now it has taken formal precedence among my colleagues. They’ve labeled it, “Continuing the Conversation: Racism, Diversity and Inclusion.”

My company has three divisions: newsroom, editorial and sales. The team I work with falls under sales, but only narrowly. Several months ago, leaders within the overarching division of sales started holding town hall-style meetings to talk about racism and inclusion. Attendance in these meetings was optional. The intention was “a safe space for colleagues to share their experiences.” I think they had two sessions, total. I haven’t seen any invites in quite a while. My immediate team, a much smaller troop, has picked up the slack. You might call us an active group of movers and shakers!

Our meetings, too, are optional, and up until last week, I opted to NOT attend. I only participated in this last one because I needed to know (for myself) how close or how far apart I am from my colleagues. I’m surprised to admit this meeting was one of the most notable meetings I’ve attended in the last decade. And here’s why…

Our fearless leader (aka, Chris) kicked off the meeting reminding everyone the purpose of this conversation: to discuss strategies and actions we can and will take as a team, and provide an open forum for continued dialogue surrounding racism, diversity and inclusion. A vast portion of the hour centered around the group complaining about “the company” and its lack of action to change.

Honestly, I was a bit lost.

What “changes” do they want the company to make? Are these changes surrounding the operations of the business? Our interactions with each other as a team? Or regarding the work we produce? I don’t know; maybe this was flushed out during the meetings I opted not to attend. The conversation continued with people agreeing, “We have to be change agents” and that we need to “be our authentic selves.” Man, how I hate buzz words.

Either way, the conversation evolved, and Chris said something that sparked one of those beloved “Aha!” moments. He said (and I quote): “Before we can answer the question ‘what action will we take,’ we need to define our ethos.”

Ethos.

Noun, the characteristic spirit of a culture, era, or community as manifested in its beliefs and aspirations.

Chris is right. We can’t decide how we will change or what needs to change until we first define what we stand for.

While I don’t think I really needed to attend the meeting for that revelation, I could have waited for the summary email, complete with slide deck. What I did appreciate is that Chris (unknowingly) was making me think about my personal ethos.

Personal ethos.

Personal ethos is your own framework for making moral choices. Knowing where you stand on morality and why you stand there.

In my opinion, this is an essential first step before anyone can consider becoming an agent of change. Being aware of your personal ethos is more than just a matter of being honest with yourself. It’s about setting boundaries, setting your bar, setting your priorities, and knowing how far you will go to protect and defend and stand on the line. And these days, there is plenty on the line.

And something else.

I’m expected to be my authentic self – after all, it’s encouraged – but what if I don’t see eye-to-eye on an article I’m publishing for a client? I doubt I can just say, Nah, I’m taking a pass on this one. (Oh, hello, revenue.) Up until now, I assumed I didn’t have to agree with what we publish. But now it begs the question, am I being true to myself if I publish something I don’t agree with. There’s a real-world fact: I have bills to pay. How do I reconcile this?

In the day-to-day, I always treated the client as the most important person. I think I’ve been wrong. It should be the reader. (I don’t know what value this epiphany has, but I thought it was worth mentioning.)

But then again, I work in branded content (which is, essentially, advertising). I don’t work in news or editorial. Can you imagine if I told my boss I don’t want to publish this client’s pro-mask article because I’m anti-mask? What in the world??

So, what does it all matter? If I want to get paid, I’m going to publish the article.

It’s my personal ideology that matters; the boundaries and priorities I set for myself. Am I OK with publishing an article I don’t agree with? Or am I not? Can – or should – a small marketing team be defining the company code?

I’m all over the board on this one. And this is what my meeting with my boss’s boss will be about.

Or I’ll just give him a high-five and say, “thanks for a great meeting.” I haven’t decided.

Ready to become a stronger human?

We may be different in what we experience, what we believe, where we come from, and how we think. Still, there’s one thing that is the same for all of us: success and failure are multiplied by whatever we feed it. Just to be clear, good habits are an ally, bad habits are an enemy.

We’re a society obsessed with achievement. This is especially true in the gym. I’ve never walked into a gym and heard someone say, “You should do something easy today.” I’m asked questions, like, what’s your max? Or, what’s your PR? No one asks how my training is going, and no one celebrates if I go up one pound. Instead, I’m cheered on to try for two more plates.

Here’s the problem, though. When we focus on immediate achievement, we sidestep slower, consistent progress. Success is rooted in our culture so much so that progress is often ignored. (Of course, focusing on slower growth would lead to more exceptional performance, but it’s easy to dismiss this when all we want to do is set a new PR today.)

I’m determined to embrace this principle, and I’m getting better at it. Quarantine + gym-closures are helping. (It’s kind of hard to PR in your living room with a resistance band). The beautiful thing is, the body has a fantastic ability to adapt. Nowadays, I’m training for slow progress rather than immediate achievement.

Enter, kettlebell training

Pop Quiz: If you want to get in shape and become stronger, and if you’re going to reach your full potential, what is most important?

Answer: not missing workouts.

Kettlebells offer a kind of training that uses progressive moves that targets almost every slant of fitness—endurance, strength, balance, agility. This modest lump of iron will get your heart rate up and make you stronger for the long haul. With kettlebells, it’s never about putting up a big number, and it has very little to do with goals. It has everything to do with learning how to contend with a constantly changing center of gravity. Focus and honor the process. Accomplishments will happen.

Keep your squats low and your standards high

You can’t always go hard with kettlebells, and you can’t outwork them. They teach you; You don’t teach them.

It’s been a hard lesson for me, but I’ve learned that my program doesn’t always have to be about strength. And based on my experience, stability should be a pre-requisite to strength. You can’t press a kettlebell if your hips are not stable, and you can’t squat properly if your knees or ankles are not stable, either.

These days, I’m focusing on the simple yet challenging: dynamic, controlled, Iso moves. I’m pairing them together in a pretty spicy collection (and I have battle scars to prove it) with a full-body power movement. 

An example of a full-body power movement is the double kettlebell clean and squat:

  • Explosive start for the posterior chain (the string of muscles that propel you forward)
  • Strong front rack hold for mid-back, lats, and core (gotta build a strong back to force them to talk in front of you)
  • Controlled descent into an explosive squat for strong legs (strong legs provide stability like I was talking about earlier)

Let’s keep movin’ savages

So what’s the point, you ask? The point is, continuous improvement will add up to something significant one day. Feeding our lives with good habits, making slightly better decisions daily, not rushing the process, and expanding our abilities by altering the variables will set us up to move well in life. It’ll make us stronger humans. Plus, kettlebell flows are beautiful. Hard to perform, but beautiful. 

The four words everyone needs to hear

Just because you consider yourself wealthy, doesn’t mean that the possibility of being broke isn’t lurking around the corner. Let me tell you a story…

From 2009 to 2016, I survived on eleven bucks. I am not exaggerating. Somewhere around 2011, I thought about disappearing for a bit to get my life together. I also convinced myself resurfacing in a foreign country 10 years later with a new name would be OK. But when I returned to the real world, I convinced myself that although I wasn’t living my golden moment, it wasn’t the worst time.

I lived in the middle of a big city that was crumbling in the aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis. I had zero savings and was living paycheck to paycheck. I was flat out broke. “Frugal living” was a necessity. Two dollars and eighty-eight cents bought me a family-size box of Cheeze-its, which fed me for the week. My own two feet were my transportation. I saved the quarter tank of gas for emergencies. I had no furniture – save for a cheap Ikea daybed that I used as a couch and a mattress that I had classily placed directly on the floor in my bedroom. My small TV and DVD player had been gifted to me by my next-door neighbor. They were propped up on a milk crate. I had a $5 antenna that gave me 5 stations – two played Spanish TV shows, two represented church services, and then ION TV. ION TV played Criminal Minds all day every day. I was frightened to be outdoors after dark for years!

While I admit I wasn’t the most financially intelligent person back then, my money problems were not caused by lousy budgeting or living beyond my means. Before 2009, I was in the FLOW of life, totally engaged in everything, and happy. But life took a few turns that I hadn’t adequately prepared for … divorce, death, betrayal, rejection, humiliation, loss of ‘self.’



Surprisingly enough, though, my biggest problem was not that I had practically no money or objects to my name. It was the first time I had ever lived alone, and I was lonely. After my first two panic attacks—full-on racing heart, hyperventilation, and cresting waves of fear and apprehension—I reminded myself that forever isn’t right now.

That’s when I decided I wasn’t waiting around for happiness to bust through the door—just the opposite. I was riding all the waves with my knees bent to absorb all the bumps. And when I needed to rest, I meditated. I like to call it meditating, anyway. It was more like napping.

I was tired of agonizing about paying rent every month. Working just to live was exhausting. At some point, it just became silly. I knew I didn’t need much in my apartment to get by. Still, I needed an attitude of curiosity, openness, and acceptance. I wanted to feel the freedom to choose my response to the ups and downs of life. While 90% of the work I did on myself couldn’t be seen, it was felt. My resilience and strength I brought to the table left no doubt that I could change my circumstances.

I started making decisions that changed how life flowed, and I changed my mindset. Acceptance, instead of feeling letdown, helped me cultivate patience. Patience allowed me to stay present during the struggles. And most importantly, I stopped thinking that I “needed more money.”

I started to find meaning in my life, and that’s when my life started to have meaning. I’m sure a philosopher or great mind has said something to this effect in a book, but this is a real process that has lit me up.

When you focus on something other than money, experiences like barbecuing with friends spending no money will give you far more than you can ever imagine. What I’m saying is, you decide the difference between rich and poor. Since money stopped being all-important to me, it started to find its way into my life again without me focusing on it.


Seven hundred words later and the point of this whole story comes down to four words: forever isn’t right now. If you remember this, you will be just fine.

The year is 2020—also known as COVID-19

It’s an election year, and it’s a year anarchists’ have set out to destroy America. They’re spreading chaos throughout the country, one prominent democratic city at a time, and creating deep divisions and demolishing peaceful life. 

One of the contentions is racism. 

The Democrats characterize our country as systemically racist. I think they’re nuts. While I’m not saying discrimination and racism does not exist, I’m saying it does not permeate the institution.

They vow to dismantle the structures that they say define racial, economic, political, and social inequity. They are pushing for a ‘societal transformation’ that reinforces Black Lives Matter. Their solution is to radically change the way we live. But they also want to delete our history, which they claim glorifies white supremacy. The Democrats insist systemic racism is on full display.

An example of systemic racism is the “redlining” system that banks once used that literally drew a red line around neighborhoods where people of color lived. If you lived within the red lines, banks considered you high-risk and were less likely to approve and give loans. 

This practice was banned in 1968.

While African American history did begin with slavery, black leaders, artists, and writers emerged – and, still, to this day, continue to rise – shaping the United States’ character and identity. Their gifts and contributions bring us to where we are today: opportunities, freedom, and prosperity for all Americans. 

Robert Abbot was the founder of The Chicago Defender (b. 1870 – 1940), one of the most influential black newspapers in history, in 1905.

Alvin Ailey founded the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater (b. 1931 – 1989). He was a legendary dance pioneer, choreographer, and civil rights artist-as-activist. He extended cultural community using the beauty and humanity of the African-American heritage to unite people of all races, ages and backgrounds during the rise of the civil rights movement.

Maya Angelou, poet and activist (b. 1928 – 2014), joined the Harlem Writers Guild. In 1969, she wrote the book, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings — which became a seven-volume, best-selling autobiographical series. A strong-minded civil rights activist serving alongside Martin Luther King Jr.’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference and working with Malcolm X, Angelou established the Organization of Afro-American Unity.

Ella Baker, a civil rights activist (b. 1903 – 1986), laid the framework for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC). SNCC became one of the most critical groups affecting change in American civil rights history through Freedom Rides, as well as its great emphasis on the importance of African-Americans’ voting rights.

Shirley Chisolm (b. 1924 – 2005) was the first black woman elected to the U.S. Congress. She represented New York’s 12th District for seven terms — from 1969 to 1983.

Benjamin Oliver Davis Sr., (b. 1880 – 1970) was the first African-American general for the U.S. Army during World War II. He battled segregation by developing and advancing plans for the limited desegregation of U.S. combat forces.

Dr. Charles Drew (b. 1904 – 1950) revolutionized the understanding of plasma, the liquid portion of blood without cells. He was the first African-American to get his doctorate from Columbia University in 1940. He became the leading authority on blood transfusions. This, just as the United States and Great Britain were becoming deeply involved in World War II.

I can go on. 

Martin Luther King, Jr. 

Malcolm X. 

Jesse Jackson. 

Jimi Hendrix.

Jackie Robinson. 

Soujourner Truth. 

Harriet Tubman.

More recently, Kimberly Bryant, founder of Black Girls Code. Wes Moore, Army veteran and the CEO of Robin Hood, an organization focused on improving the living standards for low-income residents of New York. Mark E. Dean, top engineer at IBM – he’s why our computers talk to printers. Charlene Carruthers, founding director of Black Youth Project 100 which works with hundreds of young Black activists who are dedicated to creating justice and freedom for all Black people.

And let’s not leave out Barack Hussein Obama II, the first African-American president of the United States from 2009 to 2017.

There are so many others whose life and works is the hallmark of opportunities, freedom and prosperity.

The government has taken steps, too, with the Equal Employment Opportunity Act of 1972. This act allows the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) the authority to sue employers when it finds reasonable cause for employment discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex, or national origin.

Again, I can go on.

But this isn’t what I want to talk about.

I want to talk about the issues in America that hold real systemic argument and, until they are addressed, will continue to oppress citizens of this great country. I’m talking about education, housing, mental health…

I can go on.

“… all the people would still be alive.”

I do not support Joe Biden, but I do feel sorry for him. And I’m angry at his family.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve noticed Biden’s cognitive health declining. You’ve seen his identity come under [constant] attack, and you’ve witnessed critical judgment cast by many Americans. At the same time they vilify and attack his agency, they are robbing him of his dignity.

Come on, man! (Sorry, had to … but it fits here!)

An individual’s agency is the trait that makes them an effective agent in their own life. It’s a fundamental part of being human. What is happening is gruesomely blatant. While people continue to chip away (they’re not even subtle about it), his family obliges, allowing this parade and show. They should be ashamed.

More fuel – for the Trump critics!

In my opinion, if Biden had normal cognition, he would not have said this – at least not out loud – on September 17, 2020, during the CNN Town Hall:

“If the President had done his job, had done his job from the beginning, all the people would still be alive. All the people — I’m not making this up. Just look at the data. Look at the data.”

As ridiculous as they are, these words absolutely add to the scope of the hysteria fanned by mainstream media. And after hearing this, Trump-critics have become more arrogant than ever. They argue there is no one more responsible for this pandemic (and all the deaths) than Trump himself, and Biden is their bullhorn.  

On the other side, President Trump has been reminding people [daily] that this pandemic was an attack by China on the entire world. He’s reminding citizens, over and over, that he closed borders and shut down travel early, which, in doing so, saved hundreds of thousands of lives. And he also points out [daily] that the great Dr. Oz Fauci praised his decision and attested that these steps saved lives.

What about everything else? I recollect a whole bunch of other things President Trump did in the early days when America found herself face to face with a novel coronavirus pandemic. But the Trump campaign seems to be fixed on speaking only about “borders, travel, Fauci, and let’s not forget he did shut down the country.” 

What people don’t know and don’t remember

Let’s look at the timeline and decisive actions taken by this President – who, some say, failed at responding to the Coronavirus, and who is responsible for all the deaths. I urge you to read every line of this timeline. I had planned to list and highlight only the important actions. But honestly, every one of these responses is a critical action. I’m betting none of us even knew about most of these (even though we absolutely should know).

In a word, governors

Governors are the pivot about which all COVID-failure and COVID-deaths should turn. Whether they’re red or blue doesn’t matter, they are an elected official with considerable control and power. When it came to the pandemic, some of them won, some of them failed.

I live in Arizona, with a population of 7.279 million across 15 counties.

The largest county, Maricopa, (in which I live) has a population of 4.5 million. Pima County, number two on the list, has 1 million. From there, the population goes down to the smallest county, Greenlee, with less than 10 thousand people.

March 16, 2020, Governor Doug Ducey shut down the state. On this day, Arizona had 53 confirmed cases of COVID-19 and zero deaths amid 7 million people.

He then re-opened the state 49 days later, despite an 833% increase in positive cases on May 4, 2020. The state recorded 495 confirmed cases and 19 deaths.

Ducey then waited 55 days before making his next decision: to shut down a second time on June 29, 2020. The state reported 5,504 confirmed cases and 52 deaths.

Again, if I did my math correct, Arizona saw a 1,000% increase in positive cases and a 174% increase in deaths before he acted.

I’d break all this down by county, but that’s getting incredibly granular and beyond my math capabilities. I can tell you that Maricopa County outnumbers the other counties by a lot, yet the entire state was shut down – even the rural areas that reported low double-digit positives (as of 9/19/20):

  • Cases: Maricopa, 139,586 to second-highest, Pima, 24,511, to most rural, Greenlee, 58
  • Deaths: Maricopa, 3,259 to second-highest, Pima, 613, to most rural, Greenlee, <3

The point of all this math is this: while the President was busy failing rapidly developing test kits, building make-shift hospitals, sending big ships across the ocean, banning travel, signing over billions of dollars in aid, cutting taxes, waiving co-pays, authorizing stimulus, providing millions of meals a week to children in rural areas of the country, building ventilators, declaring disasters in each state so they could access millions of those aid dollars, stopping hoarders, lending billions of dollars to businesses, upping our unemployment benefits to more money than some of us made at our jobs, calling China, developing treatments and vaccines, while the President was doing all this (and more), our governors were making their own decisions –

  • Closing businesses
  • Closing schools
  • Closing religious institutions
  • Not testing enough
  • Maybe testing too much
  • Denying families an opportunity to see each other
  • Denying families a chance to be together and say goodbye as they lost loved ones
  • Denying families a chance to bury their loved ones
  • Shall I go on?

“… all the people would still be alive.”

Joe, President Trump didn’t fail. He got every one of our 50 states precisely what they needed – what they asked for, and even what they didn’t ask for. Where is your supporting evidence to back up your statement, and what is your rationale? I’m hard-pressed to believe this is your own opinion or belief. Prescriptive voices are telling you what to say. You’re reading their words on the teleprompters.

To Jill Biden and the Trump critics: come on, man, look at the data!

Something is transpiring. How woke are you?

I don’ been woke when the pandemic exploded on the scene. I swear it shattered my illusion about everything … from how I view myself to how I interact with society and the world. And how local governments handled the pandemic was pretty tragic. They literally destroyed absolutism for me. This thing let me go to bed at night, trusting things would still be here in the morning. Now I wake up each day afraid to watch the news. It’s really altered my sense of being in the world. It’s like I no longer look in the mirror or at people the same way. 

Let’s get back to being woke.

Like most words, the history of woke is a surprisingly long one. The term was first used in the 1800s, but back then, it only meant the act of not being asleep. Fast forward a few centuries, and the new definition is being ‘well-informed, up-to-date.’ In recent years, both the word and the phrase ‘get woke’ have taken on a life of their own. I’m using ‘woke’ as a one-word way of encouraging people to pay political attention. 

Let’s begin here.

July 2016: Russiagate. Hillary Clinton, the then-presidential candidate, created a fake Trump/Russian collusion. Adam Schiff propelled it. President Barack Obama, the CIA and the FBI knew about it and withheld it from the House and the Senate. John Ratcliffe just made it transparent to the world

In 2014 (maybe even earlier), the Black Lives Matter movement (BLM) showed their teeth. In 2016, they released far-left policy proposals. Their political platform took on a “see no evil” approach. In 2020, BLM demonstrations and political violence surge to an all-time destructive high: they burn cities and destroy businesses. They murder people and terrorize citizens. Celebrities, athletes, big-tech, and major corporations hang signs declaring their support to BLM. Talk about tragedy.

2020 election: the democrats show *their* teeth and are blatant with their attempts to destroy America. The democratic-led effort to oust President Trump is as unprecedented as it is outrageous. This is quite true. Their goal is to regain power, even if they have to take down the entire country to get it. They want to change the principles that our country was founded on and which continue to shape our future. Liberals want to rewrite the Constitution, impose race quotas, move to a new American Anthem, and even “Rebalance the art shown in museums across the country.”

If-then statements.

If we don’t start thinking beyond ourselves and being aware of how we fit into a global ecosystem, then we’re cooked. Granted, I’ve only given you snippets and not a lot of substance, but do your own research. Read. Watch. Subscribe to the sources you trust. Look past the tweets and move beyond emotions. What’s important to you? What do you care about? The economy? Healthcare? Taxes? A vaccine for coronavirus? The First Amendment? Maybe the Second Amendment? How about national security, building our military and caring for our Veterans? If you research both sides then you will be an informed voter.

If we don’t get woke to what’s at stake, then what…?

So tell me — why.

Thought leaders, social media influencers, and even Ted-talkers advise us about the power that comes from “finding our why.” They tell us “our why” comes from within us, and that it is precisely what drives us. Indeed, only when we know our “why” will we be able to move our life onto a totally new, more challenging and more fulfilling path. They explain, knowing our “why” helps us make more intentional choices. 

It is our mission statement.

It is our conviction.

It is our core source of motivation.

It is hogwash.

It is a brick wall.

Stay with me for a minute.

In the 1940s, Viktor E. Frankl was held captive in a Nazi concentration camp. Through the pain and agony, what kept Frankl from giving up was, yes, his purpose… his “why.” But he found meaning in his fight, and that’s what gave him the strength to push forward through a life that was filled with indescribable pain. 

Let me repeat this: He found meaning in his fight. He didn’t fill his days imagining his purpose following his release; he was “living on purpose.” 

This isn’t a case of “potato, potahto.” Waiting to live until you know your purpose and living on purpose is entirely different.

No matter how hard we try, we can’t force ourselves to find our “why.” 

Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next month. I’ve tried. You see, at some point in life, we have to stop thinking about taking action and act. In other words, finding the right direction in life is something we can create by exploring and experimenting. When we shift the lens in which we view what we’re doing, we change its experience. 

In the past, just thinking about finding my purpose would make me sweat.

My stomach would be tied up in knots searching for answers to questions like, what’s my higher calling? What makes me come alive? And quite bluntly, what should I be doing with my life? 

Butttttt… what if our purpose is very different than what these Ted-talkers are telling us? What if…

Our “why” has nothing to do with what we do. 

There, I said it. Our “why” has nothing to do with what we do. In fact, our purpose is quite simple. It’s to awaken, to discover, and to nurture who we indeed are. It’s to know and love ourselves at the deepest level and guide ourselves back home when we lose our way. The more we do this, the more aware and present we become, creating more harmony in our lives. Everything else is our intense passion, inspired mission, job, hobby, and so on. While these things are powerful and very worthy, they’re not our purpose. Our purpose is much, much bigger than that.

This profound understanding of purpose is felt right in the soul of my bones. 

It diffuses the frustration I experience when my work isn’t appreciated or when my efforts are overlooked or criticized. Sometimes people will treasure my work, sometimes they won’t. Sometimes I’ll get the gig, sometimes I won’t. I’ll be thanked, and I’ll be taken for granted. I’ll give, and I’ll get nothing in return. I’ll be “Liked,” and I’ll be unfriended. That’s life. But, so then what? I have no purpose or meaning?

Absolutely, positively not. 

Tying my worth to that yo-yo circus is exhausting, discouraging, and even makes me resentful. But if I anchor my purpose within, sweet friend, I’m bound to find things I’m ridiculously good at, and I’ll never feel lost or stuck. And as for brick walls, well, I’ll just shift my lens.

So what am I missing?

  • Coronavirus is a potentially deadly virus.
  • 7.5 million Americans have been infected.
  • 210k+ Americans have died from it.
  • Our government used it to take away our inalienable rights – in particular:
    • To work and enjoy the fruits of one’s labor.
    • To move freely within the country or to another country.
    • To worship or refrain from worshipping within a freely-chosen religion.
    • To think freely.
  • Only 6% of the reported COVID-19 deaths in the U.S. are solely attributable to coronavirus.
  • We quarantined and closed the country to “slow the spread.”
  • We did not quarantine and close the country to eradicate the virus.
  • We quarantined for months and still got sick.
  • We opened the country, and we’re still getting sick.
  • We were told masks wouldn’t help. We got sick.
  • We are told we must wear a mask, or we won’t be allowed in the store/bank/restaurant/gym/insert name of any business here. We’re still getting sick.
  • We know more about the virus now than we did eight months ago – which means it’s no longer something we don’t know anything about.
  • We know who is more vulnerable to complications, should they get the virus.
  • We know who is more vulnerable, by age, should they get the virus.
  • The media, the critics, and the debate moderators say this is the most critical issue, and it’s on the top of everyone’s minds. The political spin is that this will make or break President Trump’s re-election.

In summary, whether we stay in our homes or go outside, we can get sick. Whether we wear a mask or not, we can get sick. We know if we have a compromised immune system or any disease/health challenge, we’re more at risk. If we’re 65+ in age or older, we’re more at risk. We know we cannot completely rid the world from this virus now that it is here.

So why are people still hung up on this? Knowledge is power, and we have tons of knowledge, right! We can decide if we want to go outside or to that neighborhood BBQ or trick-or-treating. “To think freely” is not only our inalienable right, but it’s also a POWER.

So what am I missing?

Decisions children shouldn’t make

I loved her for more than 40 years, and then one day, she did the unimaginable – she broke my heart.

I can’t describe my relationship with my mother. We barely had anything in common. But she was what I thought all mothers were, and that is, immortal. I also saw her as invincible, sometimes the enemy, always a nurturer. Never a woman – much less a woman with problems and experiences similar to mine.

And then she died.

It wasn’t until that day that I realized she was a person who experienced pain, just like me. She felt sorrow like I did. She held regrets, endured loneliness, had bad habits, addictions, held grudges, and had a laundry list of mistakes under her name. She had feelings. Turns out, she was like me, and I was like her. She was more influential in my life than I realized. With every passing year, I like to think our relationship grew and evolved into a newer, more significant, grander relationship. Until she abandoned me.

But deep-rooted issues are the least of my problems. It’s the cause of my mother’s death that has me wrecked.

It was three months before she died. I had just turned 40, filed for divorce, quit my job, and was hitting up neighborhood psychics and tarot readers daily. I didn’t have a plan for my future. I didn’t even have an idea for Tuesday. I assumed leaving a lousy marriage and starting over was the answer. Instead, it stirred up a weird animosity toward my family.

The day I moved into my new place is the day I’d take back.

My mother and I were making a quick trip to the store for cleaning supplies. Only ‘being quick’ didn’t happen. It wasn’t one of her ‘good days.’ She had a lot of medical issues brought on by her weight. Obesity comes with a slew of health issues. Our quick run was more like a gradual stroll with many rest breaks.

Still, I was happy she offered to help. My mother was nothing if not a clean freak – and my floors were sticky and the ominous dark spot on the bathroom wall needed diagnosing.

Patience isn’t one of my virtues. 

I drove a Jeep Wrangler – a nearly impossible vehicle for her to climb in and out of.

After five minutes, and that’s all I was giving her to get in the car, I noticed her struggle. No matter how strategically she placed her hands or angled her body, she couldn’t lift her leg and hoist herself into the passenger seat.

Thinking back, I am ashamed at how invisible she was to me.

It wasn’t until her legs gave out, her arm nearly pulled out of the socket, and she lay flat on the pavement that I jumped out to help her.

The sling was one thing; the black bruising was another.

Weeks later, she was still unable to bring her right arm above her head. And the skin from under her arm and across the front of her chest was turning blacker every day.

We ended up at Urgent Care – several times over the next month.

I was at work when the paramedic called.

They were in a helicopter and headed to St. Joseph’s. The paramedic spoke so slowly. He assured me the facility they were headed to was the most advanced (but also the busiest) stroke center.

My mother suffered an ischemic stroke early that morning, but it had been several hours before she was found. Siri gave me the 411: An ischemic stroke is a type of stroke that is caused by a clot, or some other blockage, within an artery leading to the brain. The patient’s prognosis after an ischemic stroke is good. More than three-quarters of people who suffer a stroke survive for a year and over half survive for more than five years. Many survivors recover their independence.

They found clots in my mother’s lung.

Three days later, the doctor handed me a form that was signed by my mother the day she was admitted. It was a scribbled signature, but it was a completely legal and fully-witnessed document naming me my mother’s trusted medical power of attorney.

And then her doctor presented me with a medical decision.

I’ll say it again, I’m not moody

I hate going to the doctor. It takes a lot to get me to go, like a severed limb or a bullet wound. And honestly, doctors have never actually cured me of anything. Not once. The way I see it, I’m better on my own and with my own version of first aid: tweezers, hydrogen peroxide, and honey sticks.

But this time, my daughter firmly insisted. And by ‘firmly’ I mean she demanded. She was irritated by my incessant coughing. So I made an appointment with my primary care physician – whom I have no faith in whatsoever.

“Alrighty, what’s going on with you?”

“I think I have a sinus infection; I have sinus pressure, my ears are blocked, and I have a stuffy nose.”

He slapped his knee. “Yep. I’m going to have Meredith come in next.”

Just like that. He didn’t even examine me, but I’m OK with that. He walked out, and I waited for Meredith.

Twenty-four minutes later, the door opens, and Meredith, a perky twenty-something-year-old walks in. She’s wearing pink scrubs with cupcakes all over. I just wanted to be on my way. I was ready for her to hand over a prescription, but instead, she sat down at the computer, looked at me, and said (and I quote): “Looks like you gained some weight. You know, a 10-pound weight gain during menopause is perfectly normal.”

“Um. What?”

“And not just weight gain. You might notice some mood swings. You know, highs and lows. And you might start to get a little forgetful. This is all normal for your age and what you’re going through.”

“That is awesome,” I said, trying to rein in my compulsion to kill her, all 110 pounds. “But what does this have to do with my sinus infection?”

She actually grunted.

“The doctor suggested I give you these pamphlets about, you know, The Change.”

“Aha.” I stared at her. Then I let it pour.

“I realize I will never be able to wear a tube top again, but I’m not anywhere near the need for the ‘fat talk.’ And no offense, but telling a woman who, “you know,” is going through “the change,” that she’s getting fat is not helpful. You really don’t have any idea. I mean, if you must know, the really upsetting thing is my nightstand drawer. I used to have candles, gels, a blindfold, yeah that’s right! And all sorts of really *fun* things, if you know what I mean, inside my nightstand. Nowadays, when I open it, I have aspirin bottles, Chapstick, a pair of reading glasses, and probably a handful of candy wrappers in it. Oh, and don’t forget the tiny hand-held fan because I wake up in the middle of the night, soaking wet. No less than eleven times! And for the record, I eat right, I exercise every day, and I’m talking squats, bench press, and even deadlifts. And although I’m a little softer these days, my only real problem is hot flashes. Do you know how much I sweat during a hot flash?! I bet I lose at least a pound of liquid a day, just from sweating. I sweat even when I stand directly in front of the air conditioning vent. Is there anything in those pamphlets that tells me how I can get rid of hot flashes?! Well?! Is there? Oh, and I’m losing my hair. I used to have thick and shiny hair. Know what’s thick and shiny now? Just my thighs. I mean, I come in for a sinus infection, and you want to say to me I’m fat and moody?

I’m not moody.”