You Have to Kiss a lot of Toads Before You Find Your Kermit

A Valentine's Day Tribute to the Love of My Childhood

Ah, February 14th. A day of true Hallmark style consumerism. A day to eat too much chocolate. A day to wear red and pink together and not feel like a walking fashion disaster.
For some, it is a day to celebrate romance. For some, it is a day to collect copious amounts of carefully crafted paper creations and candy hearts that taste like chalk. For some, today is perhaps more appropriately referred to as Singles Awareness Day. For some, it's a reminder in the middle of bleak February to tell those you care about they are loved.
For me, this year, it is a day to reflect on one of my first childhood loves, Kermit the Frog. You see, last night, my beloved and be-flippered friend got all decked out in his new hand-knit bow tie and the two of us, along with a human friend of mine set out to the cinema to catch a showing of The Muppets movie. This special showing of the movie I thought I wouldn't see until it arrives in my mailbox next month (yes, I pre-ordered the DVD combo set like a true, die-hard Muppets fan), was hosted by a wonderful quaint, local theater and a group of dedicated parents and educators to support an equally wonderful local school.
Kermit popped out of my purse before the show and took a moment to greet some of the children in the audience before taking his seat comfortably on my lap. A little boy in the seat next to mine was quite enjoying an opportunity to meet the film's star in amphibian. I told him I'd received Kermit when I was just 8 years old. He asked how old Kermit was, and I told him he'd just celebrated his 18th birthday in December of last year.

"That's impossible. If you got him when you were 8, he must be at least about 100!"

I will refrain from taking that as a comment on my own age or appearance, and, instead tell you all how it was that Kermit the Frog and I became BFFs back on December 8th of 1993.

Let's back up a bit, actually. To the early days of November of that same year. Location: Macy's children's department in Colonie Center Mall, Albany, NY. The B. family is partaking in one of childhood's most loathed rituals: shopping for clothes. That is when it began. Yours truly spots a round table draped in a red tablecloth, piled high and deep with plush Muppets. And there, right in the middle of the pile, were a select few Kermit the Frogs. I wanted one. I wanted him NOW. No, I couldn't wait until next month when Chanukah and my birthday were coming! No, I did not have enough toys already!! No, I would not just inevitably forget about one more and leave him sitting in the pile of not-played-with and frequently not-cleaned-up toys in my playroom!!!
*lip quiver, lip quiver, tear-filling eyes about to overflow* And, bring on the tantrum. Not just a small bout of tears, no. Not even just a few moments of docile whining. No, this was a full fledged epic Michelle B. style temper tantrum that even Michelle B. herself can no longer recreate--right there in Macy's children's department. I don't remember how my parents reacted, though I can imagine we all did the B. Family Walk of Shame out of that mall and I do know there was no frog in tow.
Fast forward to a couple of weeks preceding the month of December. I did it! I found the ridiculously giant bag o'gifts all eloquently wrapped in Chanukah paper. And I not-so-eloquently tore a tiny hole in each of the 8 wrapped gifts, just to, you know, make sure I was getting Kermit. Untrue to their department-store-prediction, I have not forgotten about that frog. (By the way, please do not tell my mommy I tore a hole in all of those presents, I don't think she knows and I really don't wanna get in trouble!) And the worst possible fate is realized. There is one small, soft bodied Kermit with a plastic head, but not the Kermit, not my Kermit. Now, all there is left to do is wait with the guilt of what I've just done for the weeks to pass until Chanukah comes.
And, somehow, those weeks did pass. It was the first night of Chanukah, December 8, 1993. We each lit the first candles in our menorahs, made the blessings, and gathered together to exchange gifts. Of course, I was handed that infamous box with its infamous peep hole in that infamous dreidel decorated wrapping paper. With as much grace as a disappointed and guilt-laden 8-year-old can muster, I accepted the gift, expressing levels of gratitude so immense that if the tears in my eyes didn't give away my regret, my overcompensating professions of love and thanks must have.
However, my mother and father let this go on for a while, (in a classic rendition of what my sister and I now refer to as "The Trick"), explaining all of the reasons this was all I was getting. Money was tight. The store ran out of Kermits. There was no time. You name it, it was mentioned, all increasing my feelings of remorse and shame not only for my dastardly department store display, but also for my little Peeping Tom session in the laundry room closet a few weeks back. It was horrible and the pain must have been palpable because at some point my mother turned to my father and said, "Can you just go get that one more thing from the closet?"
He returned with a green gift back with a picture of a frog on it, and that's when it happened. That's when I was at last united with the plush, perfectly green, pose-able Kermit the Frog of my dreams that I had so badly wanted and so not deserved.
That year, Kermit came with me every day to school (except one day when I forgot him at home and cried all through Show & Tell time). He came to every piano recital for the next five years. He attended every family celebration and every family vacation. He had appropriate outfits for all of these occasions. He went to summer camp, to the doctor, to friends' houses and to synagogue. (He even had a handmade felt yarmulke for that.) He moved with my family to Massachusetts and with me to Idaho and then Washington. He's not so pose-able anymore. He's had a few minor surgeries, and a few minor accidents including a dog attack. But he is still my number one choice of movie date (sorry to the human friend) when it comes to seeing the Muppets in theaters.
As we left the theater last night, me with a Muppet-like grin on my face from the excitement of it all, I remarked to my human friend how surprised I was that with this movie there had not been an influx of Muppet toys, clothes and paraphernalia in stores. She suggests that perhaps it is because of the Michelle B. Macy's Children's Department Tantrum of 1993...what do you think?

Let's Delve into 2012!

January 1st, 2012, approximately 9AM
Is there anything quite so divine as sitting down in complete slow solitude for a delicious breakfast?

Hello, 2012, and hello Blog-o-sphere! I have returned to the wonderful pacific inland northwest and to the wonderful world of blogging after a fabulous 19-days on the east coast with my family. It was just the right amount of time away filled with birthday celebrations, Chanukah festivities and overall holiday cheer. Some of the highlights of this trip included a visit to my hometown of Albany, New York, a trip to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, some delicious restaurant meals, the ease of doing all one's Shabbat grocery shopping in one store, quality time with each of my parents, and some long walks with eager pooches! The weather was unseasonably mild aside from an appropriately-timed dusting of snow in New Hampshire on the morning of December 25th. And perhaps just as enjoyable as all the outings and activities was the time spent in my parents' homes snuggling up with a cup of tea, a good book, my journal, or some mindless television. I had the pleasure of getting to prepare a traditional Shabbat meal for my father, his wife, my sister and brother-in-law as well as a Chanukah dinner for my father, his wife and one of her daughters on the first night of Chanukah.
Festive First Night of Chanukah: Fried, Fresh and Fabulous!

Since returning home, I've been reveling in this final week off before my college classes resume. I ate breakfast sitting down at the table yesterday! I didn't even have the television or radio on! Rather, I wrote for a bit in my journal and then slowly sipped my coffee and enjoyed the blissful solitude. I've loved getting back to the gym on a more regular basis as well as getting back to my Yoga practice in preparation for this year's 21 Day Yoga Challenge. I've actually been motivated to tackle (and even enjoy) some long-awaited housework and organization. My kitchen has been accessed for the purpose of cooking again (as opposed to just grabbing whatever is quick and handy in the refrigerator). I've already been able to get some leftovers stocked up in my freezer for when life will no doubt get busy again in the next few months.
As is my tradition, I resolved this new year to make no resolutions. Overall, each moment of each day is about being the best me I can be--ever growing, always learning. It is important to love what you do and do what you love. In that spirit, I'd love to share this super-easy, budget-friendly nutritious and delicious recipe for Lentil Soup. It received rave reviews at my 1st Night of Chanukah meal and I've made it again since returning home. It was quick to prepare the ingredients and easy to leave it simmering while I tended to the potato latkes. It would freeze well and makes a perfectly sustaining and satisfying lunch or dinner when served alongside a salad.


Lentil Soup

Ingredients:

1 tsp oil (I use extra virgin olive oil)
1 onion, diced
2 carrots, sliced
3-4 cloves garlic, minced

4 cups vegetable stock
2 bay leaves (*remove at the end!)

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
salt & pepper to taste
1 cup dried lentils

Directions:
In a large pot, saute onion and carrots over medium heat in oil for about 3-5 minutes, until onions turn opaque. Add the minced garlic to the pot just toward the end of that process (cooking it too long causes it to become bitter). Add the vegetable stock, bay leaves, thyme, salt, pepper and lentils. Cover and cook over low heat for about 45 minutes or until lentils are soft, stirring occasionally. Remove and discard the bay leaves prior to serving. If you are serving this in a Kosher kitchen with meat or prefer to keep it pareve, this is perfect. If you are eating dairy, it goes quite well with a dollop of light sour cream or plain yogurt. Enjoy! And Happy 2012!

Happy Wellniversary!

The month of December always encourages somewhat of a personal reflection period being that it is the month I was born in nearly 27 years ago. However, this year brings about a whole new perspective for me as I come up on the first anniversary (or Wellnivesary as I am calling it) of my diagnosis with and treatment for obstructive sleep apnea. A year ago in December, I was spending a lot of time with doctors. I had seen two neurologists here in Spokane and saw a third in Boston, MA while visiting my family to get a "second opinion." It is rather difficult to acquire a second opinion when there isn't actually an official first opinion from which to build! Both specialists could only say what "it" was probably not and possibly similar to. After returning to Spokane and following up with my neurologist here, he ordered one last test to help define what type of movement disorder was causing my incessant tics and twitches; it was the last stop on a train that looked bound toward a lifetime in Pharmaceutical Land. At the end of this past January, I was delivered an unexpected gift at 1:30am during that polysomnogram: a surprised technician at the sleep center came in carrying a C-PAP machine and mask that I was about to wear for the first time.
And the presents keep on coming! Walking out of my home medical care office with this giant plastic sack of C-PAP parts and accessories made me feel like Santa, for lack of a better reference. Then I thought to myself, Santa is a prime candidate for Obstructive Sleep Apnea, what with the terrible air quality in chimneys, his gender, age and physical stature (large neck, carries excess weight in his midsection...)

I'm certain I had no idea what to expect at that point. I know I cried because I thought only "fat, old men" get sleep apnea. I remember my first night of using my C-PAP machine at home and feeling intensely hopeful after what I considered to be a huge and immediate success. And then the feelings of disappointment, desperation and personal failure at not being able to maintain that...
I was overcome with excitement and optimism--and this made the next few nights, which did not go as well, incredibly hard to accept. The novelty of finally knowing what has been affecting my health over the past several years had worn off and been replaced by the realization that I will deal with this for the rest of my life. --taken from this post on February 6, 2011
Many times in the lengthy process toward finding a mask, pressure setting and sleep regimen that would work for me, I wanted nothing more than to be a candidate for corrective surgery, to just give up and revert to being a "twitching idiot" or to somehow just go back in time to when I didn't know I even had sleep apnea. I felt more and more discouraged and at times, isolated in that feeling. I wrote about it a bit on March 19th, here. I wondered if I would ever be able to go to sleep again without "thinking about it" or be able to enjoy that cozy feeling when you wake up naturally in the morning and just want to lay there a bit.

If I had to share my bed space with all of the paperwork, masks, parts, and accessories involved in finally reaching the set-up that now works for me, I'd have no place to sleep!

The truth of that matter is, I'm not entirely there yet. I finally have a mask (Mask #5) that works for me and a pressure setting (I lost count of how many changes that took) that keeps me from having symptoms but isn't too high. I also now have insomnia quite often, as I think the process of getting to where I am now made me rather sensitive to other sleep disturbances. However, I am now off of all of the medications I was on for over a decade. I rarely have the uncontrolled movements that once rendered me unable to hold still at all. On rare occasions, I do wake up with the feeling that I've really enjoyed a restful night and rather than immediately wanting to escape my bed and feeling grateful another night is over, I lay there a bit in the cozy bliss of restfulness. This positivity really came forward yesterday when I checked in again with both my sleep doctor and neurologist. My neurologist here was visibly impressed by the improvement in my strength, balance, and muscle function/control. He said, "It's been a long journey for you, but you really fixed yourself."
At first, I was not sure I agreed entirely with his statement. I recognize how easily this could have been missed if he had not ordered the polysomnogram and if the sleep doctor had gone with his initial intuition to not run the test at all. I realize how easily I could have started a lifelong regimen of more drugs to treat symptoms that I'd likely still deal with if it were not for the correct diagnosis. I realize that essentially, this was and still is in G-d's hands. However, in further reflection, there is truth to my doctor's statement. Many patients continue to struggle with the affects of sleep apnea because it often goes undiagnosed. Many patients who feel chronically fatigued or "just not right" will avoid medical treatment altogether as these symptoms are often mislabeled or overlooked by medical professionals. And many who are diagnosed do not benefit from C-PAP therapy because they discontinue their treatment or their treatment is not completely controlling their sleep disordered breathing.
C-PAP machines are the first line of defense in treatment of sleep apnea. They are a great invention, don't get me wrong--can you imagine if I had to sleep in an iron lung?! A lot of focus is put on the patient responsibility to be "compliant." I strongly dislike that this is the vocabulary used around the issue! Insurance companies will not even cover the purchase of a machine (and cover a rental-only basis of use) until "compliance" over an extended period of time is proven. I recently read an article entitled "Innovative approaches help sleep apnea sufferers benefit from CPAP." The premise of the study done and approach being taken is that patients who have the support and encouragement of a parent or partner/spouse tend to have significantly greater success rates in using CPAP machines. If you are in any way affected by sleep apnea and CPAP therapy, be it that you are the patient or your loved one is, I do encourage you to read this. However, I disagree with the idea that providing emotional support and encouragement for CPAP users is in any way an innovative approach! Unfortunately, within the medical field it is innovative. Many patients are sent home with their machine and left somewhat to their own devices. The author of the article would classify my personal approach to solving my CPAP conundrums as "actively coping." I would classify it is "obsessively stubborn." As much as I would contemplate giving up on the therapy, I never allowed myself to actually see that as an option. I never got to a point where I was willing to go back to the way things were even if things were not as I wanted them yet. Many patients have different coping styles, less obvious symptoms, and do give up on the therapy. Many of those patients' health problems worsen and some actually die from complications of sleep apnea.
If I were to suggest an approach for family, friends, and healthcare providers for people suffering from sleep apnea and to the individuals themselves, it would be that there is no cookie-cutter plan for treating sleep apnea. Every body is different. Some people go home with their shiny new machine and sleep well immediately and for the rest of their lives. Some go home and immediately struggle to adjust, whether it's feelings of claustrophobia, the noise, the lights, an ill-fitting mask, an incorrect pressure setting, you name it. Some have an amazing first night and then nearly a year of struggling. There is no "it takes 4-6 weeks to kick in" type plan here. Well meaning folks will ask how you've slept every morning. Well meaning folks will tell you "you should be back to normal in about 2 months." Well meaning folks will tell you their experience with CPAP was "amazing" or "horrible" or "fill-in-the-blank." And as well meaning but often sleep-deprived patients, we may receive it well, laugh it off or burst into tears--often not when we expect or plan to!
If I had to categorize and classify my experience, I'd put under "Success Stories." Right now, CPAP therapy is my one and only ticket to continued wellness. I tolerate my good ol' machine, sometimes I even almost like the little thing! Do I sometimes still wish that I could have some sort of magical one-time-only cure and not have to use it ever again? Honestly, yes. But the quality of the life I live each day because of how well I am able to sleep at night is the truest testament to how beneficial this therapy is for me. As I near the day I will celebrate my 27th year on this beautiful blue planet, I am immensely grateful to also be celebrating my 1st Wellniversary and to be surrounded near and far by people who showed incredible amounts of love, humor, kindness and patience through it all!