What? Rigor Mortis Already?!

Rigor Mortis [rig-er mawr-tis, or esp. Brit. , rahy-gawr]


1- The stiffening of the body after death.

Origin: 1830-40; <Latin: literally, stiffness of death

We got together last night with a friend of mine that I have known since before kindergarten.  It was funny to sit and look at our beautiful families and think that we were, at one point, as small as our four year olds when we met for the first time.  I don’t remember meeting many people in my life, but I remember meeting this friend.

It was my first ever soccer practice.  I leaned heavily on my dads leg as he introduced me to my coach who, after shaking hands with me asked if I knew how to dribble a soccer ball.  I nodded in approval and she asked me to show her how well I could do it.  I picked the ball up and attempted to bounce it- basketball style- on the grass.  As she tried to repress a chuckle she called this boy I had never seen before over to us and asked him to show me how to dribble.  I watched in amazement as he ran down the field kicking the ball with his feet.  Huh?!  I was so confused.  You dribble with your feet?

He brought the ball back to us and the coach asked if we knew each other.  We sized one another up and shook our heads no while kicking the ground.  Our dads seemed to know each other, however, as they talked and laughed back and forth behind us.  My new friend and I stood there enjoying some little-kid-meet-little-kid awkwardness for a minute until the coach called him over to do another demonstration.

So, anyway, last night after a quick FHE we walked to a nearby park with a wagon full of various balls and some ice blocks.  After a few trips down the hill on the blocks of ice- the balls came out.  First it was the mitts and baseballs, followed by the soccer ball.  It was the soccer ball that made me think of rigor mortis.  After that first practice, I picked up dribbling quickly and learned to love the game but… playing with our kids last night made me wonder if I really don’t have one foot in the grave.  It hurt to move.  I used to be so spry!  Not so much anymore.  So, this morning I had to look up the official definition of rigor mortis just to make sure I don’t have it.  I’m not convinced I don’t, but I don’t think I’m dead either so….  I’m going to ignore the possibility that the stiffness may be due to the lack of activity on my part.  That couldn’t be the reason!

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Get Your Own ADHD!

Did you know there are ADHD advocacy groups out there?  Yep, there are.  Cool groups of people that go around talking up ADHD.  It’s awesome, and I’m right there with them!  I think everyone should have ADHD.  If you don’t have it yet- get it!  That’s what I say.

Now, for those of you that don’t have it yet but are interested in obtaining a customized and personal version for yourself stay tuned…  I’m gonna offer three never-fail tips on how to do it.  It’s easier than you may think.  

First, you have to practice losing your keys, wallet, and sunglasses.  You don’t have to like… really lose them, just… kind of lose them.  You know, for like ten minutes or so.  Do that a couple times a day for a week or two and you’ll be well on your way.  

Next, you must practice walking from one room to another and completely forget why you changed locations.  Hmmm, lets see, I know I came in here for something… what was it?  You then stand there in the middle of the room and turn around a couple of times with a very thoughtful look on you face hoping that you will see something that will jog your memory.  Nothing comes, but you do see something that you had been working on earlier in the day when someone or something came along and pulled you away.  You begin again on that project and just as you pick it up- you remember that you needed this or that from another room in order to finish it, which, you then recall, is why it was left unfinished in the first place.  So you go to the adjoining room where, you forget why you changed locations and…  It’s delightful!  This skill may take a little practice from those of you that don’t have that gift naturally.

Also, you must obtain a certain amount of loathing of paperwork to truly get your own ADHD.  Say, for example, a loathing scale goes from 1 to 10 with 10 being the most you could loath something, you must score at least a 13 or higher.  If you score a 13 or higher, obtaining that special ability to look at paperwork for hours at a time and not do any of it becomes easy.  Not out of lazyness, per se, just rather, because it’s paperwork and you loath it.

So, there you have it.  The first three steps necessary in obtaining ADHD for yourself.  Now, go!  Fight!  Win!  


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Disaster Averted!

Alright, after thinking about it a little longer, I’m glad I didn’t mention to this blog about moving my mistress blogs in with us.  Moving them in would be a disaster waiting to happen!  All that emotion in one place?!  Wow!  What was I thinking?  Nope, I think it’ll be best to leave things how they are, and just post as regularly as I can to all of them.  The balancing act goes on…  



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An Editorial

I think it missed me, this little blog of mine, because when I logged in this morning she asked where I have been.  I’m not a very good liar, so after some hemming and hawing, I told her the truth.  I told her that I have been having an affair with some other blogs and that I was returning on my hands and knees hoping she would take me back.  She cried a little- so did I, but I think we have worked through our differences- mostly- and hope for a better relationship in the future.  

The only thing we couldn’t agree on was what to do with the mistress blogs.  She wants me to promise that I will forsake them all together- never to see or talk to them again.  I am not sure I can do that.  I know that’s the right thing to do- but perusing their lovely pages and looking at their visitation stats is going to be too much of a temptation for me.  I know that already.  I can see myself logging in- just to check, of course- and that one thing will lead to another and that I will suddenly have a post written and published. 

She was offended, but could see where I was coming from.  She is so understanding!  What a blog!  I will always love her.  Anyway, we are still debating the issue, but have decided that, for the time being at least, we are both okay with an “open” relationship.  We just have to tell each other who we are seeing, and when.  I was too scared, however, to mention that I plan on moving my two favorites in with us.  I’ll have to break that news very carefully, I think.  It would just be so convenient to have them all together!  My pretty little family life blog mingling with my DIY construction blog, both of whom would get along beautifully with this one!  It’ll be quite the domestic scene.  I know they’ll be good friends once they get over a little jealousness.  Don’t you think?             

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The DNA Analysis

He is now three months old. Okay, three months and a week- give or take a day or two. As he coos softly to his grandmother, who is sitting on my couch with him in her arms, she finishes sizing him up. “He looks like himself” she finally pronounces matter of factly; this, after naming all the relatives, one by one, and looking for something in his face that resembles whichever family member she is thinking of. With each child born into the family this ritual is performed over and over again by grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, friends, even strangers.

Meanwhile, as this current round of analysis goes on, I sit in a chair just behind my mother and look at the face of my little son. He has blue eyes that (see, here I go) look like his mom’s, and they smile as much as his mouth does when he is happy. Really, his whole body smiles- his legs kick, arms flail, eyes sparkle, body wiggles, and- of course- his mouth smiles- tongue out- with little happy noises emanating from deep down inside that come out as little squeals, ooo’s, and awww’s. I grin to myself as my dad, who had been sitting on the couch next to my mom, begins marveling at the strength and athleticism of the child. (He did a little back flip for us)

This handsome little three-month old is my fifth child, so I have already participated in this necessary and important ceremony over and over again with my older children. I think it is all just a part of welcoming a new friend into the world- since babies can’t talk- we have to come up with another way to connect with them. Thinking of loved ones and comparing the baby to that person must, in some way, help us connect with the new arrival. Or, maybe because we all share the same DNA, it’s fun to look for a part of yourself in the face that makes somebody else a special and unique person.

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ADHD Part VI: The Doctors Office

It was cold. Cold enough, in fact, that Satan found a number of his prize winning flames frozen to death in mid flicker!

It was mid-winter, and a few months earlier I had vowed to myself that until that lake of fire and brimstone had become an ice skating rink, I would not be seeing a doctor about my ADHD. How fitting, I thought, that it would be just as cold in the mortal realm as it must’ve been down below.

As I imagined the inhabitants of Hades forced into attempting impossible jumps and spins- and wearing ice skating boots two sizes too small- my wife and I pulled off the road and into the frozen arctic tundra of a doctors’ office parking lot, wondering the while what the doctor was going to be like. What would he think of a grown man coming into his office wanting ADHD meds? I had heard stories of people going from doctor to doctor trying to get a prescription so they could abuse the drugs. Would he think that is what I was trying to do? How was he going to verify what my wife and I suspected was, indeed, ADHD?

Once the car was positioned roughly where we thought a parking space may have been, (it’s tough to see the lines through a layer of packed snow), we looked at each other, and decided to make a mad, but cautious, dash for the door. The wind was biting, and we pulled our coats tight around our necks in a vain attempt to keep it from invading our personal space.

After crossing the parking lot, we navigated the mountain range of snow that the plow had conveniently created along the length of the sidewalk while, somehow, managing to leave most of the snow right where it had fallen. Does Hades have a parking lot? I wonder to myself as we approach the door. If it does, I bet it looks a lot like this one does by about now. I gasped at the thought and checked the marquee. Conveniently, however, the wind was coming from that direction making me so teary-eyed that I couldn’t verify if we had, in fact,  just pulled into the very parking lot of h.e. double hockey-sticks…

The floor of the lobby was wet from all the people coming in with snow on their shoes and, although we had stamped our feet outside, I’m sure we contributed generously to the wetness.

While we waited to get signed in I noticed two men standing in the hallway. Still nervous about our actual location- I check them both for horns. They appeared safe enough and I observed that one of the men was wearing a stethoscope around his neck, and the other one had a small briefcase, out of which he pulled a brochure.
The doctor nodded as the salesman explained the benefits of the drug he was pushing, and I was surprised to hear that it was an ADHD drug. I had never heard a conversation between a doctor and drug rep before, or since, but was surprised at how simple it seemed. No biochemical jargon, or scientific explanation why the drug worked, just a simple “It works great for the kids, but has also been approved for use by adults”. The doctor didn’t ask any questions, and he seemed a little disinterested. He must already know about that drug, I assumed.

After checking in, we found a couple of vacant adjoining chairs and waited… and then waited for a little bit more once we were called back to an exam room. I, in the meantime, imagined that the poor souls in Hades had to have bruised knees by now from all of the failed jumping attempts.

After a few minutes the door swung open and through it walked the same stethoscope-wearing-man I saw earlier talking to the salesman. I breathed a sigh of relief that I got the doctor whom, I still assumed, seemed to know all about ADHD and the drugs to treat it.

He took a seat on the round black vinyl topped- casters on the bottom- exam stool, and with a condescending air asked what had brought us in to his office. My wife and I exchanged glances, and I began explaining what had transpired in the previous couple of months. That we had found a test which indicated that I had ADHD and that the books we had read since taking that test confirmed those results. So the purpose of our visit was to officially get diagnosed and determine an appropriate treatment plan.

We assumed he would want to verify for himself what we had just told him, and he almost made an effort to do so. He began by asking about some stereotypical ADHD behavior that I may have at one point or another exhibited. “Have you ever lost your keys?” Followed with, “Do you have a hard time concentrating?” The clincher for him was “Have you ever had an accident?” When I responded yes to that one he was convinced!

He put on his authoritative voice and with an air of bored superiority recites, word for word, the sales pitch he had just received from the sales guy, which ended with “it works great for the kids, but has also been approved for use in adults.” After the fact, I realized I shouldn’t have laughed, but I thought he was making a joke. He must have seen me in the lobby, I thought, and is trying to be funny by quoting the sales guy like that… He wasn’t… He looked as if my chuckle had been an off-color joke about his mother, wife, kids, favorite elementary school teacher, sports team, and his hair cut all in one.

I suddenly felt very hot. Hmm, I think His Awfulness’ furnace is running again, and it seems to be connected to this room! I should have checked that blasted marquee when we drove up!
My mind raced back to those moments in the lobby. Did he see me? I wondered to myself. No, I don’t think he did. Um, he sure looks offended, I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, although, he hasn’t been very careful with mine. Why does he seem so self conscious?! Has the obnoxious condescending attitude been an act to hide his inadequacies? Does he know any more about ADHD than what the salesman has told him? They must’ve gone over this in med school right? Does he really think that people with ADHD have a monopoly on losing their car keys, or getting distracted, or having accidents? I know I do those things, but does he really know enough about me to feel that putting me on such a powerful drug is the right thing?! It hasn’t even been five minutes since he walked in!
All those thoughts raced through my mind at once, it seemed, as I studied his face and made plans for evasive maneuvers. He looked mad enough to start throwing punches and I didn’t want to get caught off guard.

My fear of attack ebbed, however, as my wife and I began asking questions about ADHD and his experience with it. He had a small number of patients with it, but they were all children. He was even big enough to admit that he really didn’t know much about it outside of what he had studied in school years before. We continued for a few more minutes asking him questions, and he answered what he could, and admitted when we asked something that he didn’t know the answer to.

In the end, he gave me a prescription that I’m not sure we even filled. I appreciated his honesty with us, but decided that I wanted to find a doctor who specialized in treating ADHD, although, I didn’t tell him that. I’m sure he already knew he would never see me again.

As we walked out of the building that day wondering where we were going to find an ADHD expert, I swear, from somewhere deep inside the building I heard someone ask for another cup of freshly brewed brimstone. I knew it!

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Based on the strange things my old computer would do when not online, I knew that when I could coax his worthlessness to actually connect to the rest of the world, that he undoubtedly would be seeking out the strange and obscure nether regions of the internet- just to be among his own. Come to find out, strange and obscure is just what comes up when looking for natural ways to treat ADHD. After doing some research with a computer I trust far more than my old R2 unit- I have found more or less the same things. Lots of conspiracy, very little credible science, mixed generously with lots of hearsay, anecdotal evidence, and fantastic claims.

So, although, there may be something real in all of that somewhere, it has yet to present itself in a believable format. For example, bombarding me with the credentials of whatever doctor or scientist behind whatever product is being pushed does not quite do it for me. A little research on many of them will reveal all sorts of interesting facts that should call into question, if not the science itself, the moral fiber of said individuals. Don’t take my word for it- go research it all yourself and see what you come up with. If you do happen to find someone with a credible treatment, lemme know.

Okay, so I think I touched on this briefly in my last post, but I’m not sure the horse is dead yet- so I’m gonna hit it again. I really have nothing against treating ADHD in any way that works for you. It is a deeply personal decision, and one not to be taken lightly. If you find something that you believe may work, give it a shot. As for me- I wanted to know exactly what I was getting myself into, and I really questioned the all of the claims made by “naturalists”. Not because they are “naturalists” but because there is no consistency with any of those claims. And they all seemed so fantastic! I can bore you with examples if you want… just let me know… although; you can find the same info I did with a simple search.

Once I was satisfied, or rather unsatisfied with my searches, I began looking at institutionalized medicine. I’ll be honest; I was a little disappointed to find more information than I could ever digest about all kinds of treatments. I have always been a little skeptical of the medical and pharmaceutical industries, so to find so much information about them- good and bad- was kind of a bummer because I was hoping for some more fantastic claims to dismiss so that I could justify going untreated. However, the drugs used to treat ADHD have been around for a long time, with tons of research having been done on them. I read many of the studies.

Armed with that information, I began my search for a doctor to prescribe me a prescription. I will go into that in the next post, but first let me say that a few months ago I was introduced to “oils”, and… I’m intrigued.


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