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What was I saying?

Wine and tapas-fueled conversational topics at Cafe Gusto tonight, egged on by Sabrina Dent and her friends Grace and Catherine (did I mention the excellent wine?):

• The validity (or lack of) of ethnic self-identification by non-immigrant (e.g., 2nd or 3rd generation, etc) Caucasians in the U.S. (don't blame me for this one!)
  
• Obama's chances of winning re-election in 2012 (Ok, yeah, this one was mine)
  
• The beauty of the neti pot (see my previous post here)
  
• Differences between the use of the family doctor and specialist gynecologist by women in the U.S. vs. Ireland
  
• Childbirth
• Liking or not liking your progeny
• Mental health status of old flames
• Why is it that my friends and family STILL haven't found me a cute guy
  
• Why parents of my patients piss me off so often
  
• The deficits in Ireland's foster care system
• Similarities between Ireland and Jamaica (see one of my blog's most read posts here)
  
• Different world views between Jamaicans (West Indians in general) and AA's
• How the attached found/met their spouses and (have I mentioned?) the need for my friends to get on the ball and introduce me to their single male friends!
• How my standards/requirements for men have changed (e.g., drastically reduced) as I've gotten older

I wasn't bored :-)

Ode to the Neti Pot

Yes folks, this post is about... wait for it!... my nose. Nostrils, honker, beak, face flusher... you name it, it's been the bane of my life since I first got my cat 13 years ago. (Mwahh, love you sweetie!)

I hate being stuffed up all the time! Hate it, hate it, HATE IT!! But, there's only so much I've been able to do about it. Despite the years of allergy injections, purchases of hypoallergenic bedding and trials of various medications, the core problem has never gone away. Really, I'm just not willing to kill off my cat, no matter if my sinuses would sing hallelujah and throw me a party :-) Evil and object of cursing by my friends and family she may be, but she's MINE darn it!

My latest attempt to fix the darn thing is to try out a Neti Pot I bought online on eBay. It's actually not a pot per se, more of a plastic jug with a nozzle on the bottom, but it fits the general definition I guess - implement for nasal/sinus irrigation. I've been using it for a full week now.



It's sort of an odd sensation, usually people try to keep water out of their nose, but it actually doesn't feel bad once you try it the first time and it's dead easy to do. The process happens almost completely on its own without much work on my part. Gravity and pressure does it all. All you have to do is bend over the sink a bit and tilt your head, and voila!

The good news is it works. Ok, it's slightly gross, especially the first few days with all your old crustiness is getting flushed out, but it's certainly no worse than have to blow your nose multiple times a day. Ugh. Since I've bought it, I've cut my use of nasal spray/medication almost two-thirds, my savings in tissues is immense and, need I say it?, I can breathe!

I actually received my new best friend in the mail the day after I started having the early symptoms of a cold/flu. By that morning, it had moved into my chest and I was doing the wet cough, low grade fever, general crappy feeling thing. I was not a happy camper. The last time this happened, just 2 months ago, I ended up in the A&E (ER) in the middle of the night because I just couldn't breathe! Lucky me got told I don't "technically" have asthma, which is kind of good to know, but didn't help when I thought I was going to die because my chest was so tight. I did get my very first Nebulizer treatment and a brand new inhaler. Yeah for new experiences, right?

Thankfully, this time turned out differently. After I started using the Neti last Monday, the cold symptoms retreated rapidly from my chest and, in fact, were almost gone the next day. My fever and fatigue symptoms abandoned ship as well. I still have a cough hanging around from nasal drip, but it's episodic and never lasts long.

I have to say, for a homeopathic remedy - albeit one that's been used regularly by Indian devotees for centuries - this thing is working wonders! My goal is to eventually get off medication completely and to NOT be asked almost daily "do you have a cold?" That would be nice. So would not having to think about how my nose is working at all.

One story of an American's fight with the healthcare system

Most of the time I end up ignoring Move On.org's emails, largely because they end up requiring just a little too much real activism on my part. I like my politics kept somewhat at a distance. Yes, I'm kind of a hypocrite.

But, Dawn's story as relates to the fight for healthcare reform in the U.S. really hit me and I realized that I actually can do something about getting her story out there, just by doing something as easy as posting it here on my blog. So, here goes. Take a look at her story in the Huffington Post and keep up with her fight against the bureaucratic juggernaut of the private healthcare system via her blog.

Why The NHS Isn't An Evil Socialist Hellhole

Luckily, I'm protected by distance here in Ireland from the at times vicious nature of the debate in the U.S. over proposed health reform. Public option? Non-profit co-op? Small business decimated by unrealistic coverage rules? Public option equals socialism? All these and more have been argued over, screamed about, and prompted threats ad nauseum.

The British NHS, as an example of a health care system that covers everyone, has been particularly vilified as a horrible example of what Obama is trying to turn the U.S. into. Now, I myself have not been altogether happy with the vagaries of a public health system, as I've experienced it here in Ireland, but that's not to say I don't think the U.S. system needs a drastic overhaul and that a public option is probably just the injection that sick system needs. That or something that makes a real effort to cover the 46 million Americans who have no health coverage now at all.

Today's New York Times article describing an American expat's experience with both health systems was particularly enlightening for me about this issue - "Health Care in Britain: Expat Goes for a Checkup".

Just My Luck

I finally got in to see my new "female doctor" on Monday, after waiting for five months for an appointment. No, don't turn away! You're wrong, this is NOT another whiney post about the ups and downs of the medical system here in Ireland. It's a whiney post about the ridiculousness of my life.

What do I find when I get in there? My doctor is gorgeous, young (about my age), SINGLE (at least no ring), and has a beautiful British accent.

The perfect man turns out to be my GYN. Why does the universe hate me?!

Invitation Accepted

So, yes, I finally did turn in the guest post kindly requested by another fave blogger of mine, Niamh Griffin of Writer on the Way Home, and I even beat my deadline! :-)

I'm kind of giddy about the whole thing. It's just so cool that someone likes my writing enough to want more than what I naturally sputter out on my own site.

It's up today, so head on over and check it out. And tell me what you think - comments are a blogger's best friend!

Great quote of the day

... from this Op-Ed article in the New York Times, titled "You Be Obama", about how he's handling the political wrangle over health care reform.

You are daunted by the challenges in front of you until you remember that by some great act of fortune, you happen to be Barack Obama. This calms you down.

Heehee, love it! :-)


*Thanks to cousin Sekou for pointing this one out.

Are you kidding me?

So, following up on my "women's exam" a few weeks ago (see this post), my GP decided to forward me on to a specialist for a GYN consultation. Forget the fact that I saw my GYN as a matter of course yearly back home. Today, I get a letter from said Consultant offering me an appointment... in August!

See dictionary definition of "whiplash" for the double take I did at seeing the date. Five months for a simple consultation? And that's before being kindly informed later on in the letter that if any procedures need to be performed I may have to wait "a considerable time".

Uhhm, are we talking 2009?

Girls, what's missing from this picture?

Nothing makes it clear to you that you're in a totally different country, and culture, than getting an inside view into it's healthcare system. And, when you're a woman, the contrasts can be quite stark.

Let me start off by saying that this is not a complaint. In fact I've been relatively happy with the healthcare I've received so far here in Ireland. But, today ladies, I bit the bullet and went in for my "women's exam" and let me tell you, Ireland is a very different place than I'm used to.


I think it would help if I highlighted the differences by phrasing this in terms of what was absent or missing from the usual (i.e., American) picture:

• No demand to see your insurance card, because there isn't one.
• No paying up front before you even get in to see the doctor. (Yes, you do have to pay afterwards. This is Ireland, not paradise!)
  
• No huge sheaf of papers to sign and disclaimers to approve in the vain hope of avoiding the inevitable lawsuits.
• No waiting around while your doc rotates between you and 3 other people at the same time. One at a time, baby!
• No extended contact with the nurse prior to your precious few minutes with the doc. No nurse, the doc does it all!
• No being forced to wear a ridiculous paper gown that leaves you exposed, shivering and feeling grossly inadequate... because nothing but the most minimal stripping occurred (I was wearing a skirt so only undies went).
• No privacy during the stripping that did occur. She just turned her back. (Now picture me with dumbfounded look on my face and quite a few seconds delay while it slooowly occurs to me what I'm expected to do).
  
• No nurse in the room as the doc's insurance and proof against possible accusations. Ahh, the innocence. The trust!
  
• No stirrups!
• No fancy wipes afterward :-(
  

What was there was a kind yet authoritative demeanor by a skilled clinician with a fantastic bedside manner. All in all, an interesting but generally positive experience.