When it comes to multitasking I am a madwoman on the loose - I can email, talk and track bills all at the same time. But lately I've noticed an unsettling trend in the way my mind works and it's something friends call "Mommy Brain."
It didn't happen all at once and I'm not quite sure when it started but it is here and it is like and invisible hand that stops my train of thought before it even hits the tracks! More than once I have found myself standing in the kitchen, unsure of why I am there. I will walk into the living room and remember once more. It is the dance of my day and becoming the rhythm of my life. Oh if only I could remember all I have forgotten I would be a very wise woman!
I DO remember something from Psychology 101 in college - that the brain can only juggle a finite number of immediate processes at one moment and once overload occurs, it drops what may be considered less important information for that which is needed.
I'm not sure about the science behind this statement but I sure wish I'd remember to pick up the milk instead of trying to put the bananas into the toaster oven.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Websites that Move Me
SingleMommyhood has a lot of neat articles and then you can always join a group (or create your own!) via MeetUp.
Monday, August 24, 2009
The Race
Researching cancer statistics for a special at work brought back a lot of memories for me; nearly two years ago my own father was diagnosed with esophageal cancer. The diagnosis took the entire family by surprise – we had not heard of esophageal cancer and didn’t even know the symptoms of the disease. We all knew dad had not been feeling well, but he was still active and as cantankerous as ever. Two questions arose during our conversations – How long would he live? and Could he be cured?
The American Cancer Society estimates there are 16,470 new cases of esophageal cancer diagnosed each year. 14,280 people die from the disease and only 16% of those diagnosed will survive the next five years. African Americans are twice as likely as Caucasians to develop esophageal cancer and it is seen more frequently in men. Symptoms of esophageal cancer include difficulty swallowing, weight loss, chest pain and fatigue. What dad had repeatedly dismissed as “getting older” and as “heartburn” was actually his body’s way of telling him something was very wrong.
For my father, esophageal cancer treatment meant that most of his esophagus would be removed along with the majority of his stomach. The radiation and chemotherapy treatments left him weak and unable to live alone. My brother and his wife cared for him in their own home after each cycle and kept the rest of the family updated on dad’s progress. From the very beginning both my brother and father wore yellow LIVESTRONG bracelets and remained positive at the possibility of survival.
The hope for a cure burst into joy in December 2006 with the news that dad was cancer free. But the happy news was short lived as dad was hospitalized just after Christmas. I remember the nurse cutting the yellow LIVESTRONG bracelet from his wrist as dad asked if it was really necessary. When told yes he scowled and lay back on the pillow. The news we received was not good, the cancer had returned and Dad’s race ended in the early hours of January 26, 2007 – six months to the day of his diagnosis.
My brother still has dad’s bracelet and has never taken off the one he wore during dad’s treatment. To me, the now worn and faded band is a testimony of one life lost in the battle against cancer. My father ran the race with great patience and faith; we can only continue to do the same each day while working towards a cure.
Today I made an online dedication for my father as part of the LIVESTRONG World Cancer Declaration. Dad continues to be an inspiration to me and I hope others take the time to sign the declaration as the race for a cure continues.
The American Cancer Society estimates there are 16,470 new cases of esophageal cancer diagnosed each year. 14,280 people die from the disease and only 16% of those diagnosed will survive the next five years. African Americans are twice as likely as Caucasians to develop esophageal cancer and it is seen more frequently in men. Symptoms of esophageal cancer include difficulty swallowing, weight loss, chest pain and fatigue. What dad had repeatedly dismissed as “getting older” and as “heartburn” was actually his body’s way of telling him something was very wrong.For my father, esophageal cancer treatment meant that most of his esophagus would be removed along with the majority of his stomach. The radiation and chemotherapy treatments left him weak and unable to live alone. My brother and his wife cared for him in their own home after each cycle and kept the rest of the family updated on dad’s progress. From the very beginning both my brother and father wore yellow LIVESTRONG bracelets and remained positive at the possibility of survival.
The hope for a cure burst into joy in December 2006 with the news that dad was cancer free. But the happy news was short lived as dad was hospitalized just after Christmas. I remember the nurse cutting the yellow LIVESTRONG bracelet from his wrist as dad asked if it was really necessary. When told yes he scowled and lay back on the pillow. The news we received was not good, the cancer had returned and Dad’s race ended in the early hours of January 26, 2007 – six months to the day of his diagnosis.
My brother still has dad’s bracelet and has never taken off the one he wore during dad’s treatment. To me, the now worn and faded band is a testimony of one life lost in the battle against cancer. My father ran the race with great patience and faith; we can only continue to do the same each day while working towards a cure.
Today I made an online dedication for my father as part of the LIVESTRONG World Cancer Declaration. Dad continues to be an inspiration to me and I hope others take the time to sign the declaration as the race for a cure continues.
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